


Happenstance

by curiouserncuriouser



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Arguing, Bathroom Sex, Cock Tease, Dating, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, First Dates, Flirting, Gratuitous Smut, Horseback Riding, I'm Bad At Tagging, Making Up, Moving In Together, Normal Life, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Restaurants, Romance, Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 41,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22181059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiouserncuriouser/pseuds/curiouserncuriouser
Summary: You couldn't have known when you got stood up that it would be witnessed by Henry Cavill...or that he'd be so interested in you.
Relationships: Henry Cavill/Reader, Henry Cavill/You
Comments: 115
Kudos: 280





	1. Nothing Goes as Planned

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story I'm posting! I have more chapters to add later, after some editing, but I'd love to hear what you think! Any feedback is welcome! And the smut comes in chapter 4!

She looked beautiful. Annoyed, and cold. But beautiful. She glanced at her phone, gave a frustrated shrug, and apparently decided she was done waiting. She did some angry typing, and he wondered if she was American: with the faces she made, she didn’t seem like a stoic Englishwoman. He couldn’t help but grin a little, he didn’t want to take joy in a strange woman’s distress, but he did like American women. Oh, shit, she was coming this way. He looked away, hoping she hadn’t noticed him gawking. She was pretty preoccupied. She stormed past him and looked like she would keep walking. But a bit past him, she stopped suddenly. She looked over her shoulder, and he panicked that she might be looking at him. She took a couple steps backward, and then pivoted. He considered walking away, but then wasn’t entirely sure why. If a beautiful woman caught him doing nothing more than looking at her, not even lewdly, what then? If she needed to yell at someone, she was clearly having a bad day. But…she wasn’t yelling. Or coming at him at all. She was looking into the window of the shop. And she turned again, but simply walked inside. The expression on her face had moved from annoyance to something like a gleeful kind of hunger. He felt his feet moving, carrying him into the shop before he even had a conscious thought about it. He had to know what inspired that kind of look.

He caught the door before it closed. The man behind the counter was watching her too, but more out of concern for the merchandise. Even without looking around, you could tell this shop housed old books, just by the smell. And looking at the shelves, it wasn’t simply old paperbacks. These were antiques, most behind glass. He could also tell why the shopkeeper was on high alert: the woman had her hands half-raised, as if she was barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch everything. He half-grinned again, and again thought about having that hunger turned towards him.

He made a half-hearted attempt to look at the books, more for the shopkeeper’s benefit than hers, as she certainly wasn’t paying attention to him. He sidled up to her, and, in a hushed tone, said “you know that they would frown on fingerprints, much less drool, on the cases, right?”

She snapped out of her reverie, and touched a hand to her mouth, checking for drool. “Well, unless you are a plain-clothes security guard, I’m not too worried. I have a feeling I can handle the man out front.” She looked him over. “And somehow you don’t strike me as a guardian of old books.”

He’d been right, she was an American. “Fortunately for you, I’m a mere patron. But if I’m going to get pulled into your elaborate heist, we should settle on my cut upfront.”

She chuckled a little, and glanced at the man at the desk. “Oh, is that how it’s going to be? Not enough to have a really great book in hand?”

“I’m afraid not. My rates are steep.”

“What are we talkin’ here?” she continued the game, leaning towards him a bit.

“I was thinking we could discuss it over a meal.” He considered leaning against the shelves, in an attempt to look cool & casual, but nixed the idea. He didn’t think he could pull off cool if he knocked a shelf over or angered the real book guardian.

She leaned back, she seemed genuinely surprised. “I…uh…I’m sorry, excuse me?”

“Dinner. You and me. Either to discuss our future as antique book thieves or just to enjoy each other’s company.”

“You don’t want to do that!” she stumbled over her words.

It was his turn to be surprised. “I’m sorry?”

“You don’t…I mean…oh gosh, I’m not used to this.”

He chuckled at her sudden bashfulness. “You’re not used to a life of crime? Or being asked to dinner?”

“Both, really.” She seemed to some solace in the grin he pointed at her. “I’m new to London. I just got out of a bad thing, and today I was supposed to have a blind date and got stood up. So…yeah. Well there’s my whole embarrassing life story that you didn’t ask for, I’m sorry. I’m just going to go find a nice hole to die of shame in.”

He couldn’t help but smile. Her flushed cheeks, her American over-the-top reaction, it was all somehow very endearing. “Well, if you would like to eat before you die, there’s a delightful bistro down the block. I’d still like to have dinner with you, even if it is your last meal.”

She took a deep breath. “Well, I suppose my life of crime depends on it. Just one thing first.” She squeezed past him and walked up to the desk. She asked something, he couldn’t hear what, and the man gave an annoyed response. She sighed heavily, thanked him, and headed to the door. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” She stuck out her hand to shake his.

“Henry.” Even that brief pressing of palms felt electric. He lead her out of the shop and towards the restaurant.

“Henry, how very British!”

“We are in London. I assume you are not British?”

“Was it the dialect or just my generally being very loud? Yes, I’m American.”

“The accent, mostly. And the teeth.”

“We are a vain people.”

It was Henry’s turn to get flustered, “No, I just meant…”

“I’m teasing, I’m familiar with the stereotypes of our respective countries and their oral hygiene. But you have very American teeth! You are also very familiar…” she trailed off, as they arrived at the restaurant and he held the door open. “And such a gentleman!” she added, walking through.

The hostess looked at her with indifference, but beamed at Henry when he entered. “Ah, Mr. Cavill, welcome back! Did you have a seat preference? We are very full at the moment, but we would be happy to accommodate you.”

Resisting the temptation to whip around and look at him, Y/N realized why he looked so familiar. Also why he had such straight, white teeth. He was Superman, among other roles. She wasn’t sure she’d seen any of his movies, and she hadn’t realized he was British. Well, that was interesting.

“Just a quiet table, if it’s no trouble.” He smiled at the hostess politely, but he might as well have turned on the high beams, by her reaction.

She smiled back and guided them to a booth in a corner. Henry placed his hand on the small of Y/N’s back, gesturing for her to follow the hostess. Y/N was certain that, even through her coat, he would notice the heat radiating off her in response to such a banal gesture. When they got to the booth, they removed their coats and handed them to the hostess. He had to make a conscious effort to close his mouth, so he wouldn’t be slack-jawed. She was wearing a low-cut black dress that showed off her hourglass curves. Her back was straight, confident. She wore flat shoes, despite her short stature, that made it look as though she was not insecure about her height.

“I feel underdressed and unprepared,” he said, seeing what Y/N was wearing.

“Oh stop,” she blushed a little again, but said it in a joking way. “Well, you’re certainly warmer than I am. Besides, I was on my way to a date, so my preparations are pure coincidence. What were you up to this evening? You didn’t seem to be actually interested in the books.”

“Well spotted, you caught me. I was headed out for dinner, just trying to decide where to eat. When I saw a beautiful woman storm past me, and I was temporarily derailed.”

“Okay, you can turn down the charm, I’m already here eating with you. And if I blush any harder I don’t think I’ll survive.”

“Well I’ll do my best, it will be a trial to resist making you blush. And it’s so rare that people find me charming.”

“I doubt that very much, Superman.”

They had leaned their heads together conspiratorially, but he sat back a little at this. “Ah, so you _do_ recognize me.”

“Well, I didn’t realize who you were until the hostess said your last name. It doesn’t take much to put that together.”

“I suppose that makes it fairly easy. Well, it does mean you must not have been trying to lure me into a date and use me for my fame & fortune. Unless this is a very elaborate ruse.”

“No, and if I must confess, I haven’t actually seen any of the Superman movies.”

“Ooh, that stings a little. Not a fan of superhero movies?”

“I’m just more of a Marvel girl,” she teased. “If you’ve got Chris Evans’ number…”

“Oh now you’re just twisting the knife!”

“I promise, as soon as I get home, I’ll start watching your movies!”

“Well, that is something of a comfort, but it does seem to assume you’ll be having an early night, which doesn’t bode well for this date.”

The blush came right back to her cheeks. “Can we…not think of this as a date? That sounds horrible, I just mean…when I saw you I was so mad about getting stood up, I don’t think I can handle the emotional rollercoaster of two dates in one night.”

“That’s a bit of a disappointment, but understandable.”

“I don’t mean…ugh, I’m making a terrible mess of this.”

“No, I think I understand.”

“It’s just a lot to go from getting ditched, to getting asked out by a celebrity, then go on that date all in one night. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company, and see where that takes us.”

“I will do my level best.”

“Thank you. You’re very gentlemanly.”

“You seem surprised!”

“You’re also very cheeky, so on balance it evens out.”

“I can’t really refute that. So, if I may ask, who was the cad that stood you up tonight?”

“It was a blind date, a coworker set me up with him. We’d been texting a lot, he seemed like a nice guy. We were supposed to meet in front of the Italian restaurant down the street. But he never showed. I waited like an idiot. I texted him to make sure I had the right place, and told him how to recognize me. The texts were marked as read, but no response.”

“Ouch. Well, it’s certainly his loss. Did you know what he looked like?”

“No, we didn’t swap selfies, and his social media stuff wasn’t very illuminating. My coworker said he was cute, that’s pretty much all I’ve got.”

“And he didn’t know what you looked like?”

“No, he wouldn’t send me a selfie, so I didn’t either. I told him what I was wearing, so he could’ve seen me waiting outside and bailed.”

“Intimidated?”

“Or he just decided I wasn’t his type after all.”

“Impossible.”

“Oh, very possible, I assure you.”

“Well then he’s an idiot.”

“That is the assumption I’m operating under.”

“Good, we are in agreement. Why did it bother you so much?”

“Ooh, that’s a big question. Well…I just hate dating.”

“Well this does bode poorly for me.”

“It just makes me feel…dumb, I guess. The whole rigmarole. My friends and coworkers like me, they think I’m smart & funny. But then going on a date feels like a job interview for a position I don’t even know if I want, or how to get the job if I do. It’s exhausting.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that! It’s more of a fun game!”

She rolled her eyes at him, “of course it is! You’re a handsome, muscley, rich and famous dude. You can play the game however you want, and the worst case scenario is that you don’t get laid.”

“So you think I’m handsome and muscley?” He flexed a little and waggled his eyebrows. “What you say is true, but you could play the game too. You’re a beautiful woman, you could have your pick of men.”

“Yeah, but my worst-case scenario is being brutally raped & murdered. And I don’t really have it in me to be a player.”

“The men of London are all simultaneously feeling disappointment right now, even if they don’t quite know why.”

“You are incorrigible.”

“You’re not the first woman to say that,” he slid closer to her in the booth.

“I’m absolutely not surprised. And you know that when I go to the bathroom, the first thing I’ll do is look up gossip on you.”

“Understood. I’m surprised you’ve waited this long. I don’t think you’ll find anything too horrifying, but it has been a while since I googled myself. Let me know if I’m dead again, that was interesting.”

“Okay, well I will take the opportunity right now, then. Excuse me for a moment,” she got up in search of the facilities.

He couldn’t help but smile as he watched her walk away. He liked her, he was surprised how much. She was challenging, she didn’t seem terribly impressed by him, and he liked that.

When she returned, he grinned up at her. “I tried to google you as well, but realized I don’t have a last name, or really know anything about you other than that you like old books and dislike dating.”

“Well, we have the rest of dinner to learn more about each other.”

“Only dinner? I you won’t even give me hope for something beyond a non-date?”

"We'll have to see how dinner goes…what looks good on the menu? You’ve been here before, any thoughts?”

“Everything is excellent, I don’t think you can go wrong.”

“The veal looks good…oh, that’s for two.”

“I’d be happy to share with you, if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t want to force you, are you sure there’s not something else you want?”

“Well, you’re not on the menu, so…”

“Cheeky! Alright, we’ll share.”

The waiter came by to take their orders. Henry liked that she wasn’t restricting herself to a salad to look dainty, or expensive wine to look sophisticated, she opted for a more delicious life.


	2. It Wasn't a Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little post-not-date teasing

They stood outside the restaurant in the cold. He gently pulled her arm, tugging her closer and leaning in so he could speak just above a whisper. “May I be blunt, Y/N?”  
She raised an eyebrow, and wore a cheeky grin. “I can’t imagine you stopping now.”  
“Fair enough. Well, Y/N, I would like to fuck you. Tonight. I know this wasn’t a date, but we can end it as a great one.”  
She tilted her face up to him and just looked into his eyes for a moment. Then she smiled, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him. He smiled into the kiss, and she moved one hand to his chest and wrapped the other around the back of his neck. Just as he wrapped his hands around her waist, she broke the kiss, and pulled him lower so she could whisper in his ear: “No.”  
His grin turned confused. This was certainly not the response he’d expected. He though he had her right where he wanted her, and that shortly that would be in his bed. He pulled back to get a better read on her expression. “…excuse me?”  
Her grin managed to combine innocence and pure mischief in a way he didn’t think was possible. She pulled him in again. “Oh, you heard me. I said no. Tonight, we are going to go to our respective homes, alone. We’re each going to get undressed, alone. And you’re going to think of me and touch yourself, and wonder if I’m touching myself while thinking of you. And, unless you get my number before I hop into my Lyft, you will never know the answer to that question.”  
He was not sure if he’d ever been so hard in public in his life. All the blood had left his brain, he could barely understand her final sentence. He kissed her again, harder this time. But, even though it made her breathless, she was resolute. A car pulled up nearby, and she was halfway to it when he came to his senses and cried out “Wait!” He held his phone out to her, unlocked, and she took it, entering her details while she continued to the waiting car.  
“Catch!” she snapped him into reality as she tossed his phone back to him. He very nearly bumbled it, but by the time it was securely in hand, the car door was already shut, and she was giving him a little wave as it pulled away.  
He made an attempt at a wave, and felt completely ridiculous. She was already gone, and he looked like a bloody idiot standing there, hard as a rock, hand in the air looking at the swiftly-retreating car. He looked at his phone, sending up a silent prayer that she hadn’t put in a fake number. But she had left it open to a new text screen, with the name “Y/N” at the top. He gave a sigh of relief, and immediately wrote in it. “so, tell me about your bedroom. I want some details to fill out the background of my mental image.”  
He held his breath when he saw the dots indicating that she was responding. Frozen on the spot, until her reply came in: “I’m honestly surprised, I’d assumed your first message would be a request for nudes!”  
He heaved a sigh, and tried his best to text while walking as swiftly as possible back to his flat. “I am a gentleman! I planned to at least wait until you were out of the Lyft, I don’t want to be jealous of the driver.”  
You: Fair enough. My bedroom is a loft, the bed is on a low platform, very comfortable, lots of blankets and pillows to sink into.  
Henry: I think you were right, I’m going to need some pictures when you get home. I need to see your…decorating.  
Y: well, you’ll have to be a little patient! It will be at least 15 minutes, you might want to take the opportunity to find some privacy. And maybe a little fresh air will do you good!  
H: well, to tide me over, you could tell me about what you’re going to do to me tomorrow  
Y: tomorrow?  
H: our next date, of course  
Y: well that seems presumptuous  
H: no more than your predictions on the sidewalk  
Y: well, what will the date involve?  
H: I suppose you wouldn’t be content to come to my place and just be ravished all day & night?  
Y: you’re gonna have to earn it!  
H: hmm, well…how do you feel about horses?  
Y: they seem like lovely animals, but I’ve never ridden one  
H: well I can teach you, if you’d like to learn  
Y: and this isn’t a cheeky metaphor?  
H: only if you want it to be  
Y: when & where? I don’t have a car, so going out to the country might be a bit of an effort for me  
H: I can drive, I’m part of a polo club, we can use their horses  
Y: oh la-dee-dah! Aren’t we fancy!  
H: we are, thank you for noticing. So, are you in? Or do I have to try harder than that?  
Y: I’ll let you give me a horse riding lesson. No promises about after that, though!  
H: I’ll take it! Does 1pm work?  
Y: I can do 1! Is there anything I should wear or do?  
H: I would suggest a full Lady Godiva, but you should probably wear boots with a bit of a heel.  
Y: it’s a bit cold to play Lady Godiva. But I can handle boots.  
H: where can I pick you up?  
Y: Penton Street Coffee, near Angel station. Let me know if I can grab anything for you, coffee or carbs or anything  
H: are you not giving your address to be coy?  
Y: absolutely!  
H: oh, come now! I’m very trustworthy!  
Y: I don’t need to be woken up by a horny Superman tapping on my window  
H: you do know I can’t actually fly, right?

She read his text, but didn’t reply for a while. He was back at his flat at this point, so he took the opportunity to strip down to his boxer briefs and cozy up in his bed. But there was still nothing from her. He considered sending her a picture, she probably wouldn’t want a dick pic, but maybe a shirtless selfie? Maybe that would seem too desperate. She had to text back, didn’t she? Well, she did agree to a date tomorrow, so she probably wouldn’t just ditch him now. Just as he was starting to worry that something must’ve happened to her, his phone dinged with a new message. He couldn’t check fast enough.  
There was a picture, and he had a guess why she had gone silent for a while. In a moodily dark bedroom, he could see her bed from her perspective, with her bare legs out in front of her, and a view out of a loft and across London rooftops and lights. The legs were cut off in such a way that it left it to his imagination what she was wearing, if anything. His mind was already reeling with the possibilities. Another text came in that simply said “Sweet dreams, Henry”.  
God, she drove him mad in the best ways. Her prediction was certainly going to be accurate. He texted back “oh, they will be. And I expect a full report tomorrow on your dreams”. He wondered, briefly, how old she was. He’d been called out by the gossip rags for dating younger women, and he had to admit that was his usual preference. It was just easier. Not hard to impress, so it was easier to feel impressive with them. But Y/N…was definitely different. She didn’t seem impressed at all. The attraction was mutual, that was clear, even if she used his attraction as a weapon. But the fame, even the money, it didn’t seem like she minded one way or the other. And his charms, if anything, seemed to motivate her to antagonize him. Of course, that made the challenge of it all even more irresistible. He could hardly wait to see her tomorrow, and she was right: he couldn’t stop himself from imagining her in that bed, naked, thinking of him and touching herself. He sunk into his own pillows to enjoy his imaginings.


	3. Ready to Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like a little ride to get things going!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I don't actually know shit about horses, so if this is woefully inaccurate, forgive me!

She couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes when he pulled up in a snazzy-looking rich boy car. She wasn’t much for cars, but whatever he was driving looked expensive. He leaped out to open the door for her, and she handed him a coffee. She was surprised both that he would even allow food or drinks in his fancy car, and that he was making the effort to be gentlemanly.

She settled into the car, relieved to see there were cup holders, and it wasn’t so fancy that creature comforts were not provided for. She settled her purse at her feet, and buckled in. When he was settled, he revved the engine, raising his eyebrows suggestively. She couldn’t help but laugh at him, “You know what they say about guys with fancy cars, right?”

“That they’re excessively virile and handsome?”

“Small penises.”

“Well every rule has its exceptions.”

“Wouldn’t you like to think? So: horseback riding. Is there anything I should know before I embarrass myself today?”

“You really don’t like being anything less than good at things, do you?”

“Does anyone?”

“No, but you especially.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. It’s not my best quality.”

“I think it bodes well for me. Speaking of which, how was last night? Did you…sleep well?”

She took a long sip of her tea. “I slept excellently, thank you. And you?”

“A bit restless, actually. The dreams were sweet, though. So, are you going to answer the question?”

She took another, even longer, sip from her tea. “What question was that?” she asked with a cheeky grin.

“I think you know very well. But if this is the game you want to play, fine. Last night, did you think of me when you touched yourself?”

“Hmm, well, that really is two questions. First, did I touch myself last night? The answer is yes. Helps me sleep well!”

“And the second question?”

“It’s cute that you think you’ve earned the answer to that.”

“What’s with all of this ‘earning it’ stuff? Is this your kink or something?”

“No. Just that, so far, you’ve proven to me that you want sex. I’m just not entirely convinced that you truly want it with _me_ ,” she insisted. He was speechless. “I want to know that I’m not just another warm hole.”

He stumbled out “I’m not, I mean, you’re not…”

“Oh calm down, I’m not proposing. You’re the one who pointed out that I like to be good at stuff. This is no exception.”

“Well good to know. And I do look forward to proving myself worthy.”

“So do I!”

They made it to the polo club, with much flirting along the way. When he opened her door, he lingered, giving her just enough room to stand. “I’ve been thinking a lot about those lips,” he said, pressing against her and raising his hand to her face, brushing her smiling lips with his thumb. He couldn’t tell from that mysterious look if she would let him kiss her or if she would dodge him. So he decided to play her game a little, and let _her_ decide to kiss _him_.

She smiled even more, guessing what he was playing at. But she did kiss him. Tenderly and sweetly. Not chastely, exactly, but nothing that would raise the eyebrows of any passers-by. It still was enough to almost bring him to his knees. She broke the kiss just before he tried to deepen it, grinned up at him and then slid past him. He smiled, closed the car door, and went to join her.

It didn’t take long for her to understand why he’d chosen this for a date. With her legs spread, she could feel the seam of her jeans rubbing against her. And she could only imagine how the sight of her looked, bouncing around, flexing her thighs and trying to move her hips to accommodate for the horse’s movements. It must paint quite a picture. And she got a similar view, she did not object to the sight of his strong thighs in his breeches, or watching his ass as he got on & off his horse. And it wasn’t really necessary for him to help her to the extent he did, but she enjoyed having his strong hands on her waist. She seemed to have the hang of it easy enough, at least enough to ride without him holding on to anything. “What about bareback?” she asked.

“Ooh, that’s a little risky!” he clearly chose the sexual interpretation of her question.

“You know what I mean. They make a big deal about it in movies. Does it hurt the horse or anything? Or is it just more difficult?”

“Well, it is a bit more difficult. You need a good sense of balance, and strong thighs, since nothing else is helping you stay on the horse. But the horse can feel everything you do, so it’s a little more…sensitive.”

“Interesting!”

“Would you like to try? We could ride double, Thunder here is big enough to carry us both.”

“Yeah, if Thunder’s okay with it!” she seemed really excited, it was cute.

“Alright, let me put Raven there back and get the saddle off Thunder,” he helped her down again, lingering a bit with his hands on her waist. But he tended to the things he said he would, while she stood with Thunder, stroking his muzzle. When he finished, he lifted her onto the horse, and then hoisted himself up. He did it very casually, but it was incredibly impressive. To be strong enough to pull himself up while also graceful enough to not knock her off…wow. But as soon as he settled in behind her, it was clear his motivation for setting up this little bareback riding expedition. He wrapped his hand around her front, letting his pinkie drift lower, towards the waistband of her jeans. And when she pressed back into him, she felt every muscle on the front of his torso, not to mention his growing erection against her ass. “Shall we go for a little ride, then?”

“Absolutely!”

He nuzzled her neck a little, before kicking the horse into motion. They trotted off, he guided the horse across the polo field, to a wooded area. The horse slowed to a gentle walk, picking its way along the path. When they were decidedly away from prying eyes, he suggested “This looks like a nice spot for a quick rest,” and reined the horse in. He dismounted gracefully, quickly tied the reins to a branch, and helped Y/N dismount as well. But he didn’t lower her all the way to the ground. He held her up easily so she stayed at eye level, and they both went for the kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, and he carried her easily to put her back against a tree. There was a knot pressing into her lower back, but she hardly noticed. She drank him in, plunging her fingers into his hair. He grabbed her ass with both hands, digging his fingers in while she moaned into him. She grabbed his hair in a fist. They came up gasping for air, smiling.

“Is this your idea of a quick rest?”

“For the horse, yes,” he started leaving a trail of kisses down her neck.

“Ah, well, I can see how he’d need a rest,” she managed between gasps.

“I would like to restate my intentions from last night: I want to fuck you,” his voice in her ear was husky and hot. “And to clarify: I want to fuck you specifically. Not any ‘warm hole’ as you put it. You drive me completely crazy, and I want to return the favor.”

“Mmm, that’s more like it. But…there’s a tree knot in my back, and I don’t recall bringing a blanket. Or any other form of protection.”

He kissed her, more gently this time, and lowered her to the ground. “Fair points all around. Should we retire to my flat?”

“We don’t need to rush it, especially if Thunder here still needs a break. Or if you want to…calm down a little before we head back? Those breeches don’t really leave a lot to the imagination…”

“Maybe we should walk back,” he admitted reluctantly, wishing she would put something else on offer.

“Well, we don’t have to do that quite yet.” She curled her finger into the waistband of his breeches and pulled him closer. “But I’m not going to suck your dick in a forest next to a horse, so get that notion out of your head.”

“I wasn’t..I mean, if you…how did you know?” he sputtered.

“I’m very, very good.” She kissed him again, and added “Also, you’re a basic dude. I would have been shocked if you weren’t thinking it. Also, it’s not so much that I would never, it’s just…”

“Let me guess, I have to earn it?”

“No, I just would need something to kneel on, I’m not sacrificing my knees for you.”

The crack of his laugh rang loudly in the quiet forest. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Well I hope so. Alright, let’s head back.”


	4. Cardio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The teasing finally bears fruit

“You didn’t tell me you had a dog! Well hello sweetie!” she greeted the pup with more enthusiasm than he would have guessed. “What’s your name, my darling?”

“That’s Kal.”

Kal seemed equally enamored with Y/N, and was happily rolling over for tummy rubs almost immediately. “What a great fierce beast you are! Oh my goodness, look at this tum!”

“Should I leave the two of you alone?”

“No need to be jealous, you’ll get yours soon enough! I just miss having a dog, let me have my moment.”

“Normally he’s not this affectionate with strangers.”

“Dogs know who to get the best scritches from.”

“He does have excellent taste.” Henry was also fairly content enjoying the view, Y/N’s tee shirt was low cut. “Can I get you anything?”

“I wouldn’t object to using your facilities.”

“Right this way.” He lead her to the bathroom, giving her a tour along the way. He tried not to hope she would come out naked.

She didn’t, but her hair was down and she was wearing a grin he could tell meant trouble. “Gosh, I am a bit of a mess from all that riding. What do you think I should do with these clothes?”

“Probably burn them.”

“A little dramatic, but I like your style.” She turned to walk away and pulled her shirt over her head, depriving him of the view he was particularly craving. “I can find the bedroom myself, but it might be easier if you just…” He ran up behind her, spun her around and easily lifted her again. “Ah, this is familiar!” She laughed between kisses, wrapping her legs around him.

He carried her into the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him, not wanting a canine audience. He went to drop her on the bed, but when he let go, she clung on. “You think you get to toss me around like that? I am shocked, sir!” He smiled back at her, and crawled onto the bed with her still attached to his front. As she hit the bed, he lined himself up just right, so she moaned into their kiss when he pressed his cock against her, even with the layers of clothes between them. He rocked into her, a preview of events to come. She finally released her arms from his neck, and loosened the death-grip of her thighs enough to reach down between them, gripping his shaft.

It was his turn to moan into their kiss, cut off with a sharp intake of breath as she dragged her fingernails up along the side of his fly. Her other hand snaked down, and undid his pants, slowly. Hooking her finger into the waistband of his boxer-briefs, slowly running it back and forth. She alternated between returning his kisses and watching his face, seeing what got a reaction. She watched his eyes close and the corners of his mouth quirk up as she got closer to his dick, and the smile broaden further as she passed it and moved further away. A fan of the tease, alright then! She pulled his waistband down, not giving him the satisfaction of touching him any further. He stood firmly at attention, so she ran one fingernail along his skin, along the tops of his thighs, his lower stomach, not once touching his cock. She ran her other hand up under his shirt, feeling the ridges of his abs. He tried to press into her, pinning his cock and her hand between their bodies, but she deftly avoided his maneuvering, smiling mischievously.

“Oh, come on!” he groaned. “Little tease! Well, if you won’t use your hands…” he shifted his weight and grabbed her hands, pinning them over her head, “you don’t get to use them.” He had enough of a size advantage, he could hold her wrists and prop himself up with one hand, leaving the other free to undo her jeans and slip a hand inside. He got right to it, though, slipping his hand down the front of her panties, into the wetness of her folds. She gasped, arching her hips up to him. When her eyes opened again, they met his, and they held eye contact as he slipped two fingers into her. She used every bit of her willpower to keep her eyes open, hold that connection as he moved his fingers in her. It was no easy task, as he shortly proved his hand was big enough to both managed that task and to press into her clit with the heel of his palm. He built a slow rhythm, his fingers making “come hither” motions inside her, and her hips moving with him. She tried to urge him into a faster pace, but he was having none of it. She tried to wrest her hands free, but he wouldn’t budge, just smiled at her frustration. But he finally picked up the pace, stoking her into a frenzy. She held his eyes the whole time, until the dam finally burst, and she had to close her eyes in climax.

As soon as the final wave crashed over her, she felt the cool air hit her wetness, indicating his sudden absence. Before she could even open her eyes, she could feel his hands at her hips, pulling her jeans and panties down and tossing them aside. She sat up to watch as he disrobed, unhooking her bra while she got a good look at him. Seeing the full expanse of his bare chest, she couldn’t just coyly sit back. She scooted to the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of him to rub her hands through his chest hair, and then reaching down to stroke his impressive length. He kissed her, roughly, and then pushed her to the bed. He started to bend down to her, and she reminded him “condom or nothing.” He obliged, and when he turned back to her, he grabbed her hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed.

Still standing, he positioned himself, and entered her in one swift stroke. She cried out, back arching, but he paused. He watched her as he pulled out and watched as he thrust his cock into her again. He wasn’t sure there was a sight more erotic that watching a woman on her back, spread before him, lost in the moment. Then he had to amend that thought when she found something for her hands to do: one hand dipped to her clit while the other rolled her left nipple in her fingers. He had wanted to go slow and tease her, but the view made that hard, he felt himself building faster than he wanted to. He withdrew and moved to the bed. She was already pouncing on him, and before he reached his intended position found her in his lap. Neither of them could thrust with proper vigor from this position, but they tangled their arms around each other, and she moved her hips in almost lazy circles with him embedded to the hilt inside her. Now that his hands were free and all of her was within reach, he took the opportunity to kiss down to her breasts, licking and sucking and nipping at her soft skin. Her fingers clutched his thick curls, urging him on.

Soon, he was grabbing her hips, trying move them faster, and her sighs and small noises turned into chuckles. “Oh, you want to go faster? How about you show me what you’ve got?” He didn’t have to be told twice, he lowered her to the bed and picked up the pace. It was his turn to lace his fingers into her hair, Y/N cried out and dug her fingers into his back as his thrusts increased in speed. He reared back just in time to look her in the eye just as they came in a rush, together.

When the waves finished rolling through each of them, he collapsed on his back beside her, and they lay for a moment, chests heaving as they caught their breath. “Well,” Y/N eventually managed, “I don’t know, I think we can do better. When should we try again? Seems like you need the cardio, anyway…” She smiled, rolled to kiss him on the shoulder, then popped out of bed to go clean up.


	5. Killing Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gotta find something to do while waiting on delivery

Y/N freshened up, and took a long look in the mirror. So, that was sex with Henry! And it was…good! Great, even! He was always so confident, and with the testosterone rolling off him, she had worried he wouldn’t exactly be a giving partner. She was glad to discover she was wrong. And that confidence was deserved, too.

She heard the bathroom door creak behind her and smiled to see his reflection come up behind her in the mirror. He snaked a hand around her waist, and moved her hair off her shoulder to plant kisses along it. She leaned back into him, lifting a hand to run them through his messy curls. She could feel his member twitch against the small of her back, her grin broadening. She turned in his arms to kiss him. God, he was a good kisser, that really should have been her clue. He picked her up and sat her on the counter, bringing her a bit closer to his height.

Just as she lifted her arms to wrap them around him, there was a growling sounds. “Hmm, I suppose your stomach disagrees with my plans for you…” he guessed.

“Well, it does have a mind of its own.”

“It is getting a bit late. Although I don’t know if I approve of you putting clothes back on.”

“Well, there are dinners that don’t require leaving the house. I don’t know what you’ve got in your kitchen, somehow I don’t imagine you do a lot of cooking…”

“Not especially, no. But I can accept the responsibility of putting trousers on long enough for delivery.”

They worked out their order, and he entered it into an app. “Looks like it should be 20-30 minutes,” he let her know.”

“Well, I can’t imagine how we could possibly spend that time…” she reached down to assess his status. “Well well well, maybe there is some way to keep busy!”

“I don’t know, quickies aren’t really my style,” the last word was cut off in a gasp, under the work of her hand.

“Well, I can stop, we can go wait in silence, just…” it was her turn to be cut off, but this time by his mouth closing on hers. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her closer to the edge, and she reminded him “Condom!”

He groaned at the inconvenience, but started blindly rummaging through the drawers. He managed to find one, open it, and slide it on without breaking their kiss. He did, however, separate long enough to watch her face as he slid into her slowly. Watching her with satisfaction as she arched back, he bent to kiss her throat. Every stroke caused a sharp little intake of breath, right in his ear, and he relished every one. He felt her fingers tug at his hair, her heels dig into his ass. He bit into her shoulder, not viciously, just enough that she cried out and clutched at him harder.

She was having a bit of trouble keeping herself in place on the counter, so when she caught her breath, she tapped him on the shoulder, “Let’s try something a little different.” He reluctantly stepped back, watching for what she wanted next. She slid off the counter and turned her back to him. Leaning forward, she braced herself against the counter, and caught his eye in their reflection.

He ran his hands over her back, before grabbing her hips and positioning himself. Her eyes stayed on him the whole time, watching the enjoyment he got just from looking at her. The look on his face as he entered her was even better. As he thrust into her, he held her hip and shoulder to make the most of each stroke. She moved a little, to improve the angle, and he balled a fist into her hair and pulled her back further. She cried out again, but he could see the expression of ecstasy in her reflection. He moved his hand around to hold her around the throat. He was careful not to put pressure on her windpipe, he just held his huge hand at the base of her neck. Both experiencing the sensation and seeing it in the reflection sent him towards the edge, making him rougher, more insistent. And feeling the full force of his need sent Y/N tumbling right over the edge, letting wave after wave of orgasm wash over her. Even if he had any restraint left, watching her come while feeling her clench around him sent him over as well, burying himself to the hilt as he climaxed.

He felt her collapse, spent, back against him. He held her in his arms and cradled her there for a moment. Still panting, she teased “not bad for a quickie!” as she turned and kissed him on the cheek.

“Not bad indeed! Did I hurt you?”

“No, not at all! That worked out well. I’m not hugely into pain, but a little hair-pulling…” he had already moved his hand to her hair, and emphasized her point by giving it a little tug, moving her face so he could kiss her properly. “Mmm, not a bad idea, but we do have a delivery person who could be here at any minute.”

He grumbled in agreement, kissed her one last time, and then loosened his grasp so they could both prepare for dinner.


	6. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally get around to eating dinner.

Y/N agreed not to put her jeans or bra back on under the condition that Henry answered the door and then took his shirt back off. “It’s not exactly the same effect when I’m eating,” he tried to argue.

“You don’t know what my kinks are, man! Maybe some topless chicken tikka is exactly what I’m into, you could be stumbling into a sex goldmine!”

“Well, when you put it that way…” he set the bags down and pulled his shirt over his head.

She managed to keep herself from gasping just seeing him topless again. Not that she hadn’t appreciated it before, but she was a little distracted by other parts of him at the time. Now she took the time to just enjoy the view.

He caught her staring as he prepared everything. “You like what you see?”

“Who doesn’t love curry?” she played innocent.

“That’s all you have eyes for, is it? Curry?”

“Hey, I’ve had a very physically active day, a girl needs sustenance!” she insisted as she walked up to him, pinning him against the counter. “Also, I can admit I was thinking about this muscle right here. I wasn’t sure what it was,” she said, tracing her fingers along his skin.

“That’s the serratus anterior.”

“Ooh, look at you, smarty! Well, I like it. How do you even work this out?”

“Well, if you do a specific kind of push up, that works well, or there’s a wall exercise where…you’re not actually listening, are you?” he asked, noticing her attention was clearly devoted to what her hands were doing.

“Nope.”

“Do I get to examine any of your muscle groups, to level the playing field?” he attempted.

“Nope.”

“That hardly seems fair,” he pouted.

“I think I can make it up to you,” she promised, tousling his hair, and grabbing a takeaway box and a fork from behind him. She sashayed back to the table, and settled in to eat.

He exhaled in a whoosh, and grinned as he got his food together. They chatted while they ate. It was easy to talk to her. As much as she loved antagonizing and teasing him, she was also just a smart, funny woman. They discussed all manner of things, some mindless chitchat, some weightier things, and a lot of her teasing him. She confessed that she still hadn’t watched him as Superman, but as they’d only met 24 hours ago, and he’d been with her for most of that time, he forgave her.

When they’d finished and were clearing the table, she glanced at a clock, and said “It’s getting late, I should probably get going.”

He was surprised to feel his heart drop a little at that. “You can stay,” he offered, tacking on a “if you’d like” in an attempt not to sound too desperate.

It wasn’t entirely effective, but she did come over to where he sat and stood between his legs. “Much though I would like to, I wouldn’t be able to walk right tomorrow.” He held her by the hips, letting his fingers drift up under her shirt, and she ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s not fair for a man to have such amazing hair. I would kill for this kind of texture.”

“I love your hair,” he heard himself say before he could retract the words. That was too massive a word to bring into a first date, even if he was just talking about her hair. “It’s…cool,” he tried to salvage his dignity.

She grinned down at him, and he girded himself against the incoming verbal onslaught, but it didn’t come. No witty riposte. She just looked down at his face, like she was studying it. She tucked a curl away and moved her fingers along its plains. She took a breath like she was going to say something, but he could see her mentally turning away from whatever it was, and just exhale. She went with “Text me,” instead.

Y/N was so unsure of what to do here. She wasn’t sure she was really looking for something serious. And the only thing serious about today was how seriously, incredibly hot Henry was. But…she felt that feeling deep in her core. It was sad to walk away from him. And not just because of the aforementioned hotness thing. She’d really enjoyed the time they’d spent together out of the bedroom as well. He was fun to be around. He put up with her merciless teasing, and even seemed to like it. She enjoyed talking to him. Looking into his eyes, having his hands on her, it gave her a dizzy, heady feeling that was beyond good sex.

She kissed him, hoping her lips could convey all that she wasn’t ready to even think about. When she could feel the heat start to rise again, she forced herself to straighten up. She brushed her thumb over his cheek one last time, and then went to get dressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, a little bit of fluff while I stall to figure out where this story is headed!


	7. Waiting

The next day, she expected to wake up to a notification with Henry’s name on it, but she didn’t. She went about her normal Sunday routine, laundry and preparing for the week, but still no text message. He’d been so eager that first night, and they’d had a great day together yesterday. Maybe he was playing it cool? Waiting 24 hours? But after she did her grocery shopping, made herself some dinner…still nothing. She hated this. Since her divorce, it was almost as if she’d never dated in her life. She didn’t know how it worked anymore. Dating apps weren’t a thing when she met her husband, and just how the entire dating process worked seemed like it had changed since the last time she was single. Had she pushed him away too hard? Should she have texted him? Really, he was a celebrity, it seemed like he should be the one to chase after her. She didn’t want to be another groupie. But what if he was just hoping to hit it and quit it?

The week went on. She went through her work week, knowing that she’d spent her Saturday having great sex with the Man of Steel, trying to pretend like she cared in her meetings. It wasn’t easy, she’d be listening to some project manager talk about timelines for the new build, but something would catch in her mind and an image would flash through her attention: maybe something fairly tame, like his smile in the restaurant, but as the week progressed she more frequently saw him pinning her hands over her head, or taking his shirt off, or, even better, seeing his reflection as he took her from behind.

It was very difficult to concentrate. But every night, she got home, had dinner, watched some TV, read. And still, no message. On Wednesday, she even caved and watched Man of Steel. She laughed, hearing him do an American accent. But she enjoyed watching him, even if it did make it harder to sleep.

Finally on Thursday, Y/N caved, breaking the silence.

Y: Is this how you’re playing it?

H: How’s that?

Y: We bang, you don’t text me back?

H: You haven’t texted me either

Y: True, but it’s a long way to go from you begging for it to pretending like you’re not interested…

H: Hey, I thoroughly rocked your world, I seem to recall you having plenty of orgasms

Y: That might say more about me than about you

H: Shall we test that theory?

Y: Oh, so you are still interested? Fancy that!

H: This week got busy, I’m sorry I didn’t text you.

Y: I’m sorry I didn’t text you either. Is your schedule clearing up any time soon?

H: Just say the word, and it will

Y: Ooh, what to do with all this power?

H: I have a few ideas, if you can’t think of anything…

Y: Friday?

H: Consider my schedule cleared! Do you have a time?

Y: I typically get off work around 6, but I’ll be near Angel station. So any time after that works

H: I realize I don’t have a clue what it is you do, do you need time to change or anything?

Y: Very considerate, but no. Not unless we were going to do something with a dress code

H: Well, I know what I’d like the dress code to be…

Y: Cheeky

H: Well, the evening will be a surprise, but no specific dress code.

Y: …you don’t know what we’re doing yet, do you?

H: Just because it’s a surprise for both of us doesn’t make it any less of a surprise for you

Y: True. I look forward to it!

H: Me too!


	8. Walk & Talk

She agreed to let him pick her up at her work, right at 6. Not because she still didn’t trust him to know where she lived, he just wanted to meet as early as possible, and her meeting schedule wouldn’t give her time to go home. After her last meeting, she ducked into a restroom, freshened up her makeup, and tried to give herself a pep talk.

This was so nerve-wracking. What was she even doing? Henry was a major celebrity. He was gorgeous, he was good in bed, and so far he seemed like at least good company, he might even be a good guy. She wasn’t a terrible monster, but…she was just a normal person. She had a normal 9-5 job in tech. She didn’t exercise as much as she should. She was kind of a nerd. She was divorced. She wasn’t just divorced, her husband had cheated on her, and she still hadn’t sorted out what that said about her as a sexual or romantic partner.

Okay, the pep talk thing wasn’t working. Well, whatever her faults, Henry hadn’t spotted them. Yet, anyway. He wanted to see her again. He definitely wanted to have sex with her again, so she probably wasn’t terrible in the sack? Well, if she couldn’t convince herself that this made sense, she could at least try to convince herself to sit back and enjoy the ride.

She made her way past reception, into the courtyard out front. She expected to have to wait a little, there wasn’t really a good place to stop here, so if he’d been even a little early, he’d have to circle the block. He’d wanted to keep the surprise of what they were doing, so he refused to meet her wherever they were going.

“Well hello, there,” she heard over her shoulder. She turned, and there he stood. God, he was breathtaking. He was wearing a nice pair of jeans, a pea coat over a dark button-up shirt. His shoes probably cost more than her entire outfit combined, but they looked nice. Even when he was trying to be casual, it made her feel under-dressed. She was wearing a nice, if somewhat casual navy blue dress, a cute scarf and coat, and a pair of knee-high boots. She thought she looked cute, but seeing him, she felt outclassed. But then she looked at his face, and saw the open look of delight and hunger in his eyes, and she thought maybe she’d chosen just right. He closed the distance between them, and slid her laptop bag off her shoulder. “Here, allow me.”

“Oh, I don’t mind, but…thanks,” she blushed even at this small amount of physical contact. “Oh!” she suddenly realized that this man had to be paparazzi-bait, and kicked herself for not thinking about that sooner. “I’m sorry, it hadn’t occurred to me before, but…am I going to see myself on the front page of The Mirror or something? I don’t exactly know a lot of celebrities.”

He put his hand on her elbow. “I will do my level best to keep you out of the tabloids. I can’t promise anything, and there are certain places that we should avoid, but as long as I don’t parade around shouting my name, making a scene, and involving you, I think we will be fine.”

“What about affection? Is that allowed?”

He leaned down to put his lips next to her ear and whispered “We probably shouldn’t get caught having sex in public, but…” he moved her face to his and kissed her. It wasn’t a deep kiss, but it still warmed her right up, despite the chill in the air. “…I think we’ll be okay with this.”

She smiled up at him. “Mmm, I see. Well, what did you have planned for this evening?”

“I thought we could just walk,” he offered his elbow. “I had a restaurant in mind, but no reservations or anything. So if we see something interesting, we can do that instead.”

“Really, so if I decide I’m craving Nando’s, you’ll do it?”

“Cheeky, I’m in.”

“McDonald’s?”

“I love a burger.”

"Even McDonald's?"

"Not especially, but your wish is my command.

“This is a surprise! Alright, let’s walk.” She laced her arm under his, and he lead the way. “I feel like I should apologize in advance, I imagine I’m a much slower walker than you are.”

“Why’s that?”

“Your legs are much longer than mine. And I suppose I’ve just never been a speed walker.”

“It doesn’t hurt me to slow down a little. It gives us more time to talk. I take it the building you just came out of, with the fancy tech company in it, is where you work? What is it you do there?”

“It is indeed where I work. I’m a content strategist.”

“Do I sound like an ignorant fool if I don’t know what that is?”

“Hardly, I wouldn’t even expect everyone in tech to know what that is. To grossly over-simplify: in a website, a designer will work on how to make it look pretty and be usable, and a content strategist decides what goes into that design: what words, what other media, things like that. So if you have a travel website, and it’s got a bunch of hotels listed on it, what goes into describing the hotels, the area around them, the rooms, their features, things like that.”

“Well that sounds very impressive!”

“It pays the bills! A bit nerdy, but I enjoy it, as far as work goes.”

“You don’t seem like much of a nerd.”

“Oh, trust me: I am. I work in tech, spend too much time reading and playing video games.”

“None of those seem like bad things to me. I, too, consider myself a nerd.”

She stopped in her tracks. “I’m sorry: _you’re_ a nerd? Now _that_ is hard to believe!”

He turned to her, smiling down at her shock, “It’s true. I love video games, and am really into fantasy novels.”

She cocked her head at him, “No, sorry, I don’t buy it. You look like you beat up nerds in school!”

“Hardly. In fact, I was teased mercilessly, they called me ‘Fat Cavill’.”

“Kids can be such dicks, I’m sorry. I got picked on a lot, too,” she gazed up at his stunning face, trying to imagine the younger version. She couldn’t picture it. “You could stand to regain some of that weight, though. I’m not trying to be judgy or anything, but you’re a little _too_ muscular.”

“Oh, is that so? Does my body disgust you?”

“It’s embarrassing, really,” she tried to suppress a grin, and wasn’t entirely effective. She tentatively moved a hand to his chest, part of her still expecting someone to jump out of an alley and start taking pictures. “And this face? Gross.”

He licked his lips and smiled down at her. “You are very brave to make such a sacrifice, even being seen with me.”

“I really, really am,” she pulled him down for a quick kiss. Even just that small gesture, just their lips touching, all of their clothes on, felt hot, intimate, it made her light-headed. Surely the whole world had stopped around them? But no paparazzi jumped out, no pedestrians stopped to gawk, no cars crashed from the scene they created. But much though she wanted to throw her arms around him and run her hands over him, she didn’t need to tempt fate. “How far away was the place you were thinking of?”

“About a 10 minute walk,” he brushed her bangs out of her face. “But if you don’t think you can make it that far…”

“Well, to continue my acts of bravery, I think I can make it. Besides, I think we’ll need sustenance…”

“Very true! Well, let’s not allow ourselves to be distracted.” He took her arm again, and lead on.


	9. Palmistry

They wandered for a bit, before Y/N pointed out a Vietnamese place she’d heard was good. It was not as fancy as the place he’d been thinking of, but that was maybe for the best, so he agreed. From the first dinner they shared, she clearly had good tastes in dining, it was nice to see that she wasn’t stuck on only having fancy meals. Well, there had been delivery, but that was more of a necessity than a date. He would have gladly taken her anywhere, but seeing her duck into a hole-in-the-wall restaurant he wouldn’t have even noticed, and read through the menu with confidence that she was going to get a good meal, it was nice.

They put their orders in and got to chatting. Last weekend, he’d been pretty focused on the end-game. It wasn’t that he was uninterested in her as a person, but it was mostly about playing the game. But when she’d texted him, it was completely disarming. He’d wanted to text her, but he didn’t know what to say. “Fancy a fuck?” seemed a _bit_ forward. “Your presence is requested on a date,” too formal. Until she gave him her number, he would have sworn up and down that he was incapable of flirting over text, and, save that first night, he was pretty sure it held true. She was just…clever. And he was finding that now that they’d gotten the initial pleasantries out of the way, he wanted to get to know her, but wasn’t entirely sure how to go about it.

But they fell into easy conversation. They talked about books, she’d read many of his favorite fantasy books. She tried to convince him about some sci-fi and non-fiction, and, although he was skeptical, he conceded to giving at least one of her suggestions a try. He enjoyed watching her struggle over a selection, her enthusiasm making her squirm was a sight to be seen.

They moved on to video games, and it was her turn to take his suggestions. Since she’d moved to the UK, she was looking for something new to try, so he gave her a few options. She offered her hand to shake, binding them to attempt each other’s recommendations. He took it, smiling at her Americanness. But then she didn’t let go, she turned his hand over in hers and looked at the palm.

“I wish I was cool enough to be able to read your palm. All I know is that this is supposed to be your lifeline,” she said tracing a finger down the middle of his palm.

“Well, as I don’t know palmistry either, you could make something up and I’d be none the wiser.”

“Ah yes, I see it now!” she said in an attempt at a vaguely mystic voice. “Your life will be long and full of happiness! Not free of troubles, to be sure, but much of them are behind you.”

“And romance?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Outlook is good!”

“You nicked that line from a Magic 8 Ball.”

“Doesn’t make me a liar. I’d say the outlook is very good, at least for the next few hours!” her eyes gleamed with mischief. Even though he’d strongly suspected where the night would end, it made him blush a little to hear her allude to it. American women, what can you do?

The food came, and they chatted further. It seemed like she was trying to get him to laugh any time he took a bite, but refrained from trying to shock him while food was in front of them. She asked him a lot of questions about himself, but it wasn’t nosy. He was used to “what’s it like working with such-n-such,” or stuff about working out and food, those kinds of questions were to be expected, but not from her. She wanted to understand the details of the filming process, how he went about research for a role. She also asked about things like growing up, his family, going to school. Still not in a nosy way, but it felt strangely intimate. She asked things like what his mom shouted when he was in trouble, did he have any interesting scar stories from childhood, what was his favorite thing to do when he got home from school. She had a lot of questions about boarding school, her only ideas about it were from Harry Potter, which she admitted might be somewhat less-than-accurate.

He’d hardly realized how much time had passed when the server came by to clear the table and leave the bill. She had sneakily gotten her card out and ready, and passed it to the server before Henry could do anything about it. “Y/N, absolutely not! Let me pay!”

“Oh please, Henry. It’s my turn. I can manage it. You can get the next one,” she offered, and he started to object. “Don’t offend my feminist sensibilities.”

That shut him up. “Alright. But next time we’ll cram in as many Michelin stars as we can.”

“You have a strange notion of payback, Cavill,” she grinned at him over her water glass, before finishing it.

As they left the restaurant, he turned her toward him, and she straightened the lapel on his coat. “It’s gotten rather chilly out,” he idly observed.

“It has, indeed. Did you have something in mind to warm up? A drink, or…”

He appeared to consider it as he put his hands on her waist. “I would no object to a drink. Although the ‘or…’ sounds more enticing.”

“My flat is not far off. Although it’s not nearly as grand as yours…”

“Does it have a bed? Or a couch? Or a decent-sized square of floor and some pillows?”

“All of the above, as a matter of fact!”

“Then I think we can make due,” he pulled her in for a kiss, then backed up a step to let her lead the way.


	10. Dangerous Curves

“Well, here we are!” she announced as she lead him into her flat.

He looked around, taking it in. Wow. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected. He’d spent a fair amount of time looking at the picture from her bedroom, more than he’d ever admit. But the photo was dark, and aside from the windows, he couldn’t see much about the room. Now that he was here, however, he was delighted to get a look at her flat, see what she was about. It was in the corner of a converted factory building, so it was a very open-plan loft, with floor-to-ceiling windows along two sides. It was full of pieces of her life. Lots of books, pieces of art, keepsakes from travel. The kitchen was big for a London flat, and he wondered if she was a good cook.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she offered. “I’ve got beer, whiskey…some other miscellaneous liquors.”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“Alright, whiskey it is! I can give you the tour, but, as you can see, there’s not much. There’s a loo there, and here we have the kitchen, dining, and living room. There’s the stairs, bed is up in the loft, and there’s a loo up there as well. Ta-da!”

“It’s really cool, Y/N! I like it!” He got comfortable in one corner of her couch, still looking around and taking it all in. There were so many details, it seemed like the Louvre: he could spend all day looking at every artifact and still not be able to take it all in.

She had taken her scarf and boots off, so when she came over with the glasses, he could see how low-cut her dress was, and noticed she was still wearing socks that went up over her knees. As he took the whiskey from her, he couldn’t help but wonder how soft her socks were. But she dodged his grasp and sat on the other side of the couch. She curled her legs up under her, and he got a flash of thigh. She took a slow sip of her whiskey, and then her tongue darted out to capture a drip that was sliding down the glass where her lips had been. He grinned into his glass as he took a sip of his own.

“So…Henry.”

“So…Y/N.”

They just sat there for a moment, trying to look coy. But Y/N broke into laughter. “Sorry, I don’t really have the ‘smooth’ thing down yet.”

“Neither do I, but we can practice together,” he offered, leaning towards her.

She set down her glass, then took his glass and put it down next to hers. She closed the distance and crawled up his body. “Practice, is it?” she teased, before kissing him.

She put her hands on his chest, and settled herself, straddling his lap. He’d been right, her socks were soft. He traced his fingers along the tops of her socks, then up her thighs. She started running her fingers through his hair, looking down at him. His hands slid under her dress, firmly grabbing her ass in both hands. The pressure caused her to rock into him, her breasts hovering close to his face. Before burying his face in them, he said “I think you’re the curviest girl I’ve been with.”

He felt her freeze before his lips even met her skin. “ _Excuse_ me?” she said, and he heard how cold her voice had gotten.

He leaned back to look at her face. She was pissed. “I just meant…normally the girls I’ve been with are really fit athletes, and they don’t have…” he stopped himself. Now he heard it. He wanted to reel the words back into his mouth. “No…that’s not what I…oh god…”

She was already removing his hands from her body, and removing her body from his. She sat opposite him on the couch, crossing her legs and arms. “Were you just negging me while we were making out? What the fuck?”

“Negging? No, I just…your curves are lovely, I meant…”

She cut him off with a gesture. “Stop talking, Henry. First of all, it’s unwise to talk about a woman’s body in terms you don’t seem to understand. I love my curves. But when you pit me against other women you’ve been with the way you just did, it sounds an awful lot like you’re calling me fat in an unflattering way.”

“NO! No, that’s not what I meant at all!”

“Why would you compare me in _any_ way to all the other women you’ve been with? I don’t want to hear that!”

“I didn’t mean to, I didn’t think…”

“You _didn’t_ think. Just go home, Henry.”

“Y/N, I swear, I didn’t mean it like that,” he pleaded with her.

“Henry, just…go,” she said it so quietly. He could hear the hurt edging out the anger in her voice. He hung his head into his hands for a moment, trying to find something to say, some way to save this. But his mind was blank, it was like everything went to static when he saw how he’d hurt her. He turned to face her, trying to find something to say. She just shook her head, hugging a pillow to her chest.

He stood, reluctantly. He tried to think of something to say all the way to the door. He tried to think of something as he heard her lock the door behind him. All the way down the elevator, while he waited for the Lyft, during the ride home, he tried to think of what to say. He loved her curves. He loved how soft she felt. He loved how her ass filled his hands, how her tits overflowed. He loved how womanly she felt. He loved how she made him feel.

He was _such_ an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUNNNNN


	11. Watch Your Fingers

She woke up miserable. After Henry left, she’d done more Googling. She hadn’t wanted to do it initially, it felt stalker-y. Previously, she had looked at just enough to know that he wasn’t accused of rape or murder or anything, and see what movies he’d been in, but then she cut herself off. Last night, however, she went down the rabbit hole. She found every dumb, douchey thing he’d ever said in an interview, snooped to find just how fit these other “girls” were. And calling them “girls”…well, technically they were women, but they were also _young_. Shit, she should have done this sooner. He was gross. She didn’t need or want any of his shit.

Still hurt like hell, though. He had taken her by surprise, and she’d started to let herself get hopeful. But no, she’d just been dickmatized, and he wasn’t worth all that. So here she was, late on a Saturday morning, angrily rifling through her kitchen, trying to figure out what to feed herself, but really trying to find therapy in slamming shit around.

The door buzzer sounded, and she stomped over to the intercom. “What?” she snapped.

“Delivery,” the voice on the other side said.

She automatically buzzed him in. And opened her door, leaning against the jamb while she watched the elevator mechanisms move. As the top cleared the floor, and revealed the deliveryperson inside, she threw her arms in the air. “No. Henry, no! Go away!”

He was already trying to get the doors of the ancient cage elevator open. “Y/N, come on. Please!”

“Why? Why bother?” she was backing up to close the door, and he sprinted over to catch it, and got his hand in right before it shut. She heard him cry out on the other side of the door, and she reflexively opened it again. “Oh Henry, that was stupid. Is it hurt?”

“Nothing I didn’t deserve. Please, let me in.”

She heaved a sigh. “Fine. Come in.” She held the door open and stood aside as he walked in.

She felt her heart give a throb as he passed close to her. It wasn’t fair for him to look so good. Or smell so good. Gross.

He strode in, and she realized he was holding something. She tried to ignore it. He turned and just looked at her for a moment. She felt very exposed, the way he stared. She was just in a short silk robe, it didn’t show anything too scandalous, but it certainly showed off her curves. And she was wearing glasses, she realized that he hadn’t actually seen her in them. Normally she preferred her glasses to contacts. But when they met she’d been wearing contacts to try to make a good impression on her original date, and then with riding horses she thought the frames would get in the way. Why was she even worried about what he thought of her glasses?

“Do you need a bandage or anything?” she asked, concerned in spite of herself. “It doesn’t look like you’re bleeding.”

He started, “No bandage necessary. I need to apologize. Y/N, what I said last night was stupid. It was _beyond_ stupid. It was so stupid, I had to spend all night figuring out how to apologize.”

“Henry, I appreciate the effort, but really…”

“Please at least let me try to apologize.”

She planted her feet, crossed her arms. “Fine. Try.”

He cleared his throat, licked his lips, and turned to her. “I am terrible at thinking on my feet. I shouldn’t have compared you to anyone, that was shitty of me. I feel so out of my depth here. You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re gorgeous. I don’t know how to talk to you. My mouth moves before my brain does, and then I say stupid things. Your body is amazing.”

She looked unimpressed. “And what about the interview about the #metoo movement? Or dating _teenagers_? It seems like you have a history of putting your foot in your mouth, and it has nothing to do with me.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “I was wondering when you’d read that. Alright, one thing at a time. The #metoo comments were epic stupidity. It’s why I make sure my manager is there for interviews now. I didn’t even mean what I said, I don’t know why I said it. It was disrespectful, it was ignorant of what women go through, and it was inexcusable. As for the other thing…I used to date younger women, it’s true. Although, to be fair, only one was nineteen, and…” he could see she was unamused, so he continued, “And I was…really, at that time, that was the level I was at. I was having career success, I was getting a lot of attention, and didn’t have my head on straight. Younger women were…I don’t know what the best word is. They didn’t have high expectations of me, they just thought it was cool to hang out with me. It was uncomplicated. But it’s not what I want now.”

He stared down at her, waiting. She didn’t know what to say. “Henry…”

“I know nothing I can say will make up for what I said or all the stupid things I’ve done in the past. Just please, give me a chance. I swear to you, I won’t fuck up like this again.” She gave him a look, and he clarified, “At least, not in this precise way, I’ll probably find lots of other ways to fuck up. But they’ll be fresh, new ways.”

She smiled a little, and used the sleeve of her robe to swipe at the tears that were starting to form. “Henry, I…I don’t know…”

“Please.”

She could feel her posture softening, her crossed arms turning into more of a self-hug. She didn’t want to do this. “Henry, I’m divorced. That’s why I’m in London. He cheated on me. With a much younger, much skinnier woman. A stripper, actually.” She could practically hear his jaw drop. She’d been avoiding his eyes, scared of what she’d see there. But she saw him lift his hands, like he wanted to reach for her, but then drop them. “So…I can’t. I can’t keep seeing you, I can’t risk getting serious with you. I can’t deal with it. I can’t sit here wondering when you’re going to go back to a fit woman. When you’re going to decide to find the younger model. When you decide you want ‘uncomplicated’ again. I can’t do that to myself.”

She felt very small, very vulnerable. She finally raised her eyes to meet his, and saw how heartbroken he was. He looked on the verge of tears, himself. “I would _never_ , Y/N. I’ve done some very stupid things in my life, but…I can’t even imagine doing that anyone, but especially to you. You’re amazing. Can I kill your ex?”

That got a real smile out of her. “It’s a generous offer, but he’s several thousand miles away, which is a bit of a trip for murder.”

She lowered her arms, dropping her guard. He asked, “Can I at least hug you? You look like you need a hug.” She nodded, extending her arms. He wrapped her in a huge embrace, squeezing her hard enough the air left her lungs in a whoosh. She let him hold her, feeling the strength of his arms around her, the hard plane of his chest. She moved her arms around his waist, could feel that muscle that wrapped around to the back. Serratus, he’d called it. She felt her hair move as he kissed the top of her head. “I really like you, Y/N. I don’t know what will happen between us. But I know what _won’t_ happen. I would never treat you like that.” He pulled her back to look in her eyes, let her see he was serious. She really, really wanted him to mean it. “Oh!” he said suddenly, “I forgot, I’d gotten you a present. I…I hope it serves as at least an adequate apology.” He reached back to the counter, and grabbed the package he’d come in with, handing it to her.

She looked somewhat skeptical, but took it, and tugged at the bow. It was simply wrapped in brown paper and white ribbon. When the ribbon fell away, she started at the wrapping. It felt like a book, she’d received enough in her life to recognize them. When the paper was out of the way, she flipped it over, and almost dropped it when she realized what it was. “Henry, no, I can’t accept this!”

“Please, Y/N, I want you to have it. Even if you can’t forgive me, even if we never see each other again. It’s yours.”

The night they’d first met, he snuck up on her while she was drooling over a first edition of her favorite book. And here it was in her hands. “But Henry, this was...this was expensive. Like… _really_ expensive. This is incredibly thoughtful, but seriously, I can’t accept this.”

He put his hands on hers, “Please, it’s not like I can return this. Just take it. Sell it yourself, throw it in the Thames if you don’t want it.”

She looked horrified at the suggestion, and clutched the book to her chest, “How _dare_ you? Fine, I accept your extremely over-the-top gift. Although, for future reference, you started way too big, you didn’t give yourself much room for future apologies.”

“So, if there are going to be future apologies, does that mean that you forgive me?” he raised his brows, hopefully. She nodded, and he swept her up in a kiss.


	12. Shower Thoughts

Henry was full of energy after he’d gotten the nod of forgiveness, practically bouncing off the walls. “Let me take you out! Anywhere, you name it!”

“Oh, I don’t know, Henry…”

“Well, we can stay in, if you’d like,” he slid his arms around her waist, pulling her in suggestively.

She stepped back, pulling herself out of his grasp, securing her robe a little more tightly. “No, I just…I feel gross today. I had imagined today would be kind of a TV-binging day, with a lot of ice cream.”

“I can do TV and ice cream!” he insisted, reaching for her again.

She pursed her lips skeptically, “Can you, though?”

“What’s the TV show?”

“Look, you go on and have your day. You don’t have to drop everything for me.”

“Please? I want to. My schedule is all clear.”

She rolled her eyes a little, but agreed. “At least let me take a shower, first.”

“I’m happy to join you…” he slipped his arms around her again, and she once again danced out of his reach.

“No thanks, this needs to be functional. I don’t have a lot of food, though, so unless you truly are okay with eating exclusively ice cream for the rest of the day, we will have to leave the house.”

“Brunch?”

“How about we both think of options while I clean up, and then we’ll decide.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He went and settled on the couch, giving an awkward wave as she walked to the stairs.

She got upstairs, and into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. What was she doing? What he said was so shitty. And that combined with his history of foot-in-mouth syndrome made it seem like he was unlikely to change. His manager couldn’t save him from saying stupid shit in the bedroom. But when he looked at her, when he held her, when he kissed her…it made her want to believe him so badly. That first weekend together, it was just the two of them, no exes, and he clearly wanted her. But…he couldn’t unsay what he’d said.

She fretted about it all through the shower. Watching the water roll down her curves, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering exactly how his exes compared. Probably just flatter everywhere. No guy in their right mind would object to her breasts, but her ass? Her tummy? She had shed some weight after the divorce, first because she was too depressed and full of self-loathing to eat, then because she started working out more to fill her time. And now that she was in London, she walked everywhere. But this wasn’t sustainable. She would put it back on, at least eventually. And she was okay with that. But Henry was practically a professional hardbody.

Why was this even a big deal? She had been out with him _twice_. This wasn’t a relationship. They weren’t engaged. Why was she putting up with this? But then an image would flash through her mind, in his bed, against the bathroom counter…shit. She was dickmatized.

She finished up her shower, threw on a little makeup and did her hair. She dug some clean-ish clothes out of her closet, not even looking at herself, and then went back downstairs. Henry had picked up one of her books, and seemed to actually be reading it. “Hey,” she announced herself.

“Hey!” he leapt to his feet, holding the book up. “This was one of the ones you recommended to me last night, right?”

“I believe so, yes! How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s brilliant!”

“Well, you can’t be more than like 10 pages in, so it seems more like you’re saying that to be nice, but I’ll take it. Did you have any food ideas?”

“A couple, but let’s hear your ideas!”

“I was a little homesick this week, dim sum sounded good. But it’s probably too heavy…”

“I’m not sure that I’ve really had dim sum before, outside of press tours in Asia.”

“We can skip it.”

“No! Let’s do it, it will be grand. Do you know anywhere?”

“Yeah, there’s a place in Covent Garden. It’s a chain, there’s one in my hometown as well.”

“Perfect! I’ll get to experience a bit of your home, as well!”

She couldn’t help but smile a little, “You might be overplaying the enthusiasm hand, there, Cavill.”

He took her hand, “I’m just excited. Thank you for giving me another chance, Y/N. Letting me prove I’m worthy of you.”

“Well…worthy of a third date, anyway,” she lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it.

“There she is, the firebrand! Alright, third date time! Dim sum! That’s the one with the little foods?”

“Yes, it’s the one with the little foods. You might regret wearing trousers with buttons, this is usually more of an elastic waistband situation.”

“Ooh, I like the sound of that. Well, I’ll take the risk, and next time I will be forewarned and wear a tracksuit.”

“You leave the house in a tracksuit without exercise involved? I don’t believe it.”

“I do! All the time!”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” She poked him in the ribs. “Alright, let’s get going.”


	13. Try

She had been uneasy at first, eating in front of him again. Was he judging her, mentally weighing what she ate? He seemed like he was just enjoying himself, and trying to learn what all the different dishes were. But she managed to push it from her mind and put away her fair share of dumplings. When they got back to hers, they were stuffed to the gills, and collapsed on the couch. They watched some TV for a bit, and Henry lay down, putting his head in her lap. She squirmed a little bit, but started stroking his hair, it was soothing for both of them. He moved a hand to her knee, started pressing small kisses into the top of her thigh.

She squeezed her way out from under him, excusing herself to the bathroom. When she came back, she sat at his feet, pulling them into her lap. He looked at her for a moment, confused. He sat up, putting his feet on the ground. He leaned over, kissed along her jawline. He ran a hand up her leg, towards her ass, but she grabbed his hand and stopped it.

“Henry, I…”

He looked at her face and his heart broke. The pain was still there, the hurt he’d caused. “Oh, Y/N, I…”

“I’m sorry, Henry, I thought I could, really, but…”

“No, no please don’t. Don’t say it,” he begged.

“I don’t think I can do this. I can’t get it out of my head.”

“Please, please Y/N. Let me show you,” he cupped her face in his hands.

She could see the concern in his eyes. She really wanted to believe him. “Henry…” she said doubtfully. “I don’t know how you can show me. I don’t know if I can believe you.”

He kissed her, hard. “Let me try.” She searched his eyes, still not sure what she was seeing there, or what she even wanted to see. But she nodded, and he claimed her lips with his. His kisses were ruthless, mercenary. He was not fucking around, he was going to show her just how badly he wanted every inch of her. She was limp for a second, but then he felt her hands move to his chest. He was worried she would push him away, hold him back. But her hands slid around his neck. “Are you sure, Y/N?” he asked.

“Try,” she breathed, nodding.

His hands dug into her, clutching wherever he could reach. He knelt in front of her, settling her legs on either side of him, giving his hands room to worship her. He moved his hands up her tunic, felt her hands hovering, like she was considering stopping him again. “I want to see you,” he insisted. She nodded, and he pulled the top over her head. He sat back on his heels for a moment, just looking at her. She started to reach for his shirt, but he captured her hands and kissed them, putting them back at her sides, “No, this is about you.” She blushed and covered her face with her hands. “No, no, we can’t have that now,” he chided, pulling her hands away.

“Well what can I do with my hands!” she laughed, exasperated.

“Sit on them, if you must. Or you can put them in my hair, you seem to like that,” he offered. She smirked her agreement and plunged her fingers in. Regardless of whatever else happened between them, she knew she would never stop loving the feel of his thick curls wrapped around her fingers.

He moved his hands to her waist and his lips to her collarbone, pressing her back into the couch. He slipped her bra straps off her shoulders, kissing along the way. His hands moved up to unhook her bra, and hardly took a beat before his mouth was on her breast, and his hands were moving on to her leggings. He hooked his fingers in, and started yanking her bottoms off. She lifted her hips and he reared back, pulling her legs straight up in the air so he could slide everything off.

He let her put one leg down, but he trapped the other on his shoulder, kissing her calf. He looked her over, caressing her with his eyes and his hands. And he didn’t just make it about her tits, he ran her hands over her thighs, her stomach, her hips. Over the stretch marks, the cellulite, all in the bright light of the early afternoon. And his eyes were hungry for her. He was moving slowly, savoring her, but she could see he was struggling to contain himself. His grip was getting stronger again, and he started to move his kisses up her leg. When he reached the part of her thighs where they normally touched, he tossed her other leg over his shoulder and started lavishing her with attention. Licking, sucking, biting. He grabbed her ass in both hands, lifting her to meet him. He maneuvered his thumbs to spread her lips, and he lowered his face to worship her.

She knew she wasn’t exactly looking her best. She was sitting, if reclined somewhat, but it was making her belly roll up unflatteringly. His view from below was a rather harsh angle, not something you would want a photo taken from. The thickest part of her thighs were muffling his ears, and surely he wasn’t going to be able to hold up her ass like that much longer. But the second his tongue touched her, all of that left her mind. It was like a blast went through her brain, she couldn’t care about anything but his tongue, his lips, his teeth, his fingers. The entire universe narrowed down to that point between her legs. She came hard and she came fast, gripping his hair in both fists. Even the sound that issued from her throat wasn’t pretty.

But as he gently set her back down, kissing and caressing his way back up her body with little murmurs of “gorgeous” and “stunning” and similar praise, the far-off part of her brain that was starting to regain function believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been off work this week, which is why there's been a rush of new chapters. I'll have to slow down for a bit, I don't think the story is over, I just have to go back to having a life outside of Henry fantasies. Bummer.


	14. Take Care

She checked her phone as she walked out of her last meeting of the day. She was so ready to get home, it had been another long week, and having thoughts of Henry running through her head didn’t make things easier. Well, it made things more enjoyable, but it was hard to get anything accomplished. They had spent most of the weekend together, texting throughout the week, and had made plans again for this weekend. She saw she had a text from Henry, “I don’t know if you should come over tonight. I’m sick.”

Y: Oh no! What kind of sick?

H: It’s probably the flu, I’m all stuffed up, and my throat hurts

Y: It’s probably a cold you big baby. But I can swing by, bring you some soup? What else do you need?

H: I can just order some delivery

Y: Let me guess, you don’t have any meds, do you? Like maybe you have some old paracetamol, but nothing to treat a cold?

H: Hey, I just don’t get sick very often, I don’t need that stuff

Y: I’ll be by in an hour or so. Is there anything your mum would do for you when you were sick growing up?

H: Nothing you can pick up from the shops

Y: Ok, see you soon. Leave the ringer on, in case you doze off.

As promised, an hour and change later she showed up on his doorstep, arms full of bags. She put them down in the kitchen, then went to the bathroom to start a steaming-hot shower for him.

“Oh, I like where your head’s at, but I thought you weren’t much for kneeling on tile?” he tried to make it suggestive, but was cock-blocked by his own stuffed-up nose.

“Fat chance. Here, take this,” she handed him a couple of pills. “And drink this,” she handed him a glass of water. “Drink the whole thing, all that purposefully dehydrating yourself for shirtless scenes hurts your body. Okay, good boy. Now you are going to take a shower. Use this,” she handed him something that looked a little like a biscuit made entirely of powdered sugar, “Put it in the flow of the water, it’s full of essential oils that will get into the steam and help you breathe. And right after you shower, you’re going to use this,” she insisted, handing him a neti pot. “I can heat up some distilled water for it, but then you’re on your own, it’s not exactly sexy.”

“Why are you being so bossy?” he scrunched up his face in a pout.

“Watch it, mister. I promise if you do all of these things, just like I told you to, in a half hour you will feel _so_ much better.”

“But what if I…”

“Hey, it’s your body, it’s your choice. I’m just trying to help. This is my fool-proof method for feeling less shitty when I’m sick. And when you get through that, I will have a big thing of homemade soup ready & waiting for you, with more crackers than you would ever allow yourself to eat. I also brought some other goodies, but they won’t help much unless you do the other things. And then you can go back to your bed, rest up, and I’ll leave everything so you can repeat as-needed, sound good?”

“If I do what you say, will the good boy get a reward, Mistress?” he tried to grab at her hips, but she danced out of his reach.

“Yes, your reward will be to feel less sniffly.”

“I guess that’s worth it. Okay, I’ll do it.” He considered trying to do a strip tease, but he was all achy from the sickness, so he thought better of it. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, and patted his bottom to send him off to the shower.

Of course, she had been right. Half an hour later, he’d followed her instructions, and he felt like a new man. Not cured, but it was keeping the illness at bay sufficiently. He came out of the bedroom looking for her, only to find a note in his kitchen, that read “There’s a bowl of soup in the microwave, it should still be warm. There’s 2 more servings in your fridge, and another 5 in bags in the freezer. Your fridge is stocked with things to help re-hydrate you, and some herbal teas next to the kettle, please drink them. I worry. I left plenty extra of everything, complete with the instructions for when to take what medicine and the best way to heat up the water for the neti pot. Sleep well, Henry! Feel better soon!” and she signed it with a heart.

Wow. He…had never had someone take care of him as an adult. Aside from his mum, that is, and then only a couple times. But never anyone he’d dated. Is this what it would be like, life with Y/N? He liked it when she bossed him around a little, it was always good fun. But this bossiness was downright…maternal. There was a sweetness to it. She even said she worried about him. His heart leapt a little when he looked at the little heart.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t taken her seriously. From the moment he saw her, he wanted her. And from that first non-date, he knew there was something special about her. He just hadn’t anticipated getting into anything serious with anyone. In December, The Witcher press junket would take him around the globe, and then it was Christmas. And then, and then…

But last weekend, the possibility of hurting her, of losing his chance with her had scared him. Far more than he could have anticipated. And it hurt him, too. He realized how he had sounded when he made that stupid comment about her curves, and it wasn’t the man he wanted to be for her. They had only been on two dates, but he valued her opinion of him. What he said sounded either stupid or cruel, and he couldn’t stand the idea of Y/N thinking of him as either. He wanted her to like him. He wanted her to respect him.

Their plans tonight were casual, but he had hoped they could spend the weekend together. Now that he was sick, he didn’t imagine that happening, and he didn’t want her to catch anything. He settled into his bed, taking out his phone, ready to thank her for all she had done for him. He was debating posting something vague to Instagram, maybe a picture of the soup with some gratitude for friends taking care of you? Hmm. Well, he’d check to see what she was up to, she’d posted to her story. It was a picture of a bunch of snacks on the coffee table, with the Netflix symbol on the TV behind them, with the message “starting #birthdayweek off right!”

He was immediately in his messaging app, asking “what are your plans for the next week, when are you free?” He had some planning to do.


	15. Comfies

She wasn’t trying to keep her birthday from him, she just…hadn’t wanted to volunteer the information. Normally she liked throwing herself a birthday party. She liked hosting, cooking for her friends. And with a birthday so close to Halloween, the parties usually did double-duty, and she could convince her friends to wear costumes. But she just didn’t have that many friends in London. Her coworkers had convinced her to do karaoke with them to celebrate, but other than that and treating herself to some extra shopping and some more video chats with friends & family, she figured she would be low-key with this one.

Until, of course, Henry found out. And low-key, he was not.

She’d followed him on Instagram, but didn’t really think he looked at hers. She hadn’t anticipated she’d blow the birthday thing, she’d just assumed he’d never see it and she could tell him when it was too late to do anything about it. Once he found out, he’d asked for her schedule and tried to plan a different insane activity for every night of the week. She wasn’t going to get away with taking the whole week off work, however, so she talked him down. He then suggested she should have one orgasm for every year, but even across a week, 36 seemed like it might make it hard to walk. Eventually they managed a compromise: he would do a fun surprise for Halloween on Thursday, she’d be on her own with her coworkers on Friday, and then on Saturday, her actual birthday, he would take her for a very fancy dinner. He wouldn’t tell her where, just that she should dress to impress. He could come by for…other entertainment, but she wasn’t going to his place on a weeknight, he lived too far from her work. He’d haggled substantially on that last point, insisting he could drive her, but she had to draw the line somewhere.

She also had to insist that he not go crazy on presents. The book that he’d gotten her was too much already. It just felt too uneven. She knew he had to be rich as sin, he could probably buy her a house without blinking. But she didn’t want that. She wasn’t into expensive jewelry, or fancy clothes or purses. She had all she needed. And really, she couldn’t fit much into her flat anyway. She couldn’t convince him to forgo gifts completely, but he did agree to keep it reasonable. She would just have to hope that his idea of “reasonable” was somewhere near hers.

Monday, he showed up at her flat. He brought flowers and chocolate, and they made pasta together, and it was very relaxed. Tuesday, he was back again, this time with groceries. They made another meal together, this time a little fancier, spending most of the evening just playing in her kitchen. Wednesday he showed up with takeout, wearing tracksuit bottoms and a tee, and they just watched scary movies until they were both ready to fall asleep, just cuddling. It was a sweet surprise, to just spend some domestic time together. She thought it would be awkward having him around all the time. Not that she didn’t enjoy spending time with him, but her flat was not particularly large, and she’d become used to having space and time on her own without someone underfoot. But he’d been helpful, and unobtrusive, and just…good company.

Thursday was Halloween. It was her favorite holiday, but in London it wasn’t as much of a big deal as it was in the States. But Henry had vowed he wouldn’t let that stop him. He had arranged a private ghost tour, and dinner and drinks in a pub that was supposed to be haunted. He’d even brought over a couple pumpkins, but they became distracted before they carved anything. Too many jokes about sexy vampires, and threats of biting…

By the time Friday arrived, she felt positively drunk from the affection. Henry had stayed the whole night, so she slept in a little later than usual, worked from home in the morning, and rolled into the office for lunch. She was floating on air, she couldn’t hide it from her coworkers any more. They knew she was dating someone, but she hadn’t told them exactly who. She had to tell them something, after getting stood up on the blind date, she was in too good of a mood for someone who had been ditched. So she told them she’d met someone else, and his name was Henry, and he was very cute. They didn’t need to know anything else. But on Friday, they started asking more questions, given her amazing mood. She played it coy, giving vague answers or demurring. They probably wouldn’t even believe her if she told them, so better to find the right time.

They left work earlier than usual, to make it for their karaoke reservation. It was a private room place, they had it for two hours, and intended to get the American good and drunk while they could. Since she had transferred within the company, her old teammates had warned in advance that Y/N was an excellent singer, so they knew this would be the best birthday plan. They got drinks flowing, ordered some food, and started in on the song choices.

Y/N usually didn’t like karaoke much, but she didn’t have the heart to tell her team that. Everyone tended to either be very good at it, and very competitive, or they’re very bad at it, and it’s just painful. So she downed her first drink quickly, to make things a little easier. A lot of people had showed, so the room was crowded and hot. Her first couple song choices were designed to mess with people, since her reputation had preceded her she thought it would be fun. One rap song, one very overwrought rendition of “Jolene”. By the time she had received her third drink in a little over an hour, she was in full party-mode. Now she was ready to _sing_. This time, she chose a kind of sexy-fun pop song that showed off her vocal talents a little more.

With the warmth of the alcohol running through her, she was very focused on her performance. Her coworkers were rowdy, cheering her on, everyone was having a blast. No one noticed the door opening, or the tall man sneak in. But when her final note rang out, he rushed over to her. It freaked everyone out for a moment, worried that this strange man was attacking their friend. But she shrieked “Henry!” and he swept her up in his arms, and everyone relaxed a bit. They were still amped up, but now it was to meet this mystery man.

He was dressed innocuously, just jeans and a t-shirt, with a baseball cap. She thought of it as his “incognito” look, as if it was remotely effective as a disguise. Although, no one seemed to have noticed who he was yet. So she said into the mic, “As you all can tell, this is Henry,” everyone made suggestive woo-noises, “so this is probably my cue to exit! Thanks for coming out, have a great weekend!” She tried to shuffle him out the door before anyone recognized him.

Everyone tried to voice their objections, even Henry lowered himself to her ear to say “No, we don’t have to go! You were incredible, you’re just hitting your stride!”

She put the mic back on the stand, and tried to back him towards the door. But when he’d straightened up, he looked up briefly into a sort of spotlight that was shining into his face. Some of her coworkers quieted, then started whispering. Shit, she was too late. She made a final effort to urge him out of the room, when someone said “Is that…Superman?”

There was one brief moment of silence, before a rush of noise. Some approached Henry, to introduce themselves, some approached Y/N, to try to have a quick “WTF you’re dating a mega-celebrity and didn’t bother mentioning it?” chat, others sat and gawked. A couple people seemed like they were trying to do some quick googling, to figure out what everyone was on about.

She scowled a little up at him, and he just smiled and shrugged, then turned to his fans, her coworkers. She wasn’t really mad. Maybe a little annoyed. She’d hoped to handle this better. She hadn’t even told her family or friends back home, she’d just hoped that she could stay out of the tabloids long enough to tell them. And she only wanted to do that if they started to get serious. But…here we were. She managed to introduce him around, and calm down all but her closest work-friends, who were mostly mad she hadn’t clarified what Henry she’d been seeing.

No one was terribly interested in singing anymore, they were solidly distracted by the surprise celebrity guest star. Y/N caught his ear to tell him that if they didn’t leave soon, everyone was going to force him to do karaoke, and she’d be leading the charge. He looked a little panicked, and she took that as a cue to start making their excuses. She downed the rest of her drink, gave a final wave and left.

They grabbed a Lyft back to her place. She was wobbly, she hadn’t eaten enough and she’d definitely drank too fast. She was all over Henry, he couldn’t stop laughing. She normally seemed so controlled. She was so cerebral, it was half of the fun of sex, seeing her unravel like that. But here she was, giggling, talking too much and too carelessly, and generally being adorable. She was a cute drunk. He’d get her fed and put to bed.

But Y/N had other plans. She couldn’t keep her hands off him, and had his belt undone before the ancient elevator pulled them up to her floor. He made a vague effort to dissuade her, at least slow her down enough she wasn’t undressing him in public. As soon as they made it inside, she was on him, using every ounce of her short frame to try to pin him to the door as soon as it closed.

He gave in, enjoying the attention, letting her be the aggressor. He dropped his bag and tore his coat off to give her better access. When she dropped her own coat to the floor and started to slide down his body to her knees, he caught her by the elbows. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this.”

“But I want to!” she gave him a coquettish pout. “Do you not want me to?”

“You just seem a little drunk.”

“I’m a little tipsy, I’m not blackout wasted. I am perfectly capable of consent, and I want to show my appreciation for everything this week.”

“But it’s your birthday!”

“Tomorrow! Let me have my way with you tonight!” she insisted, continuing down to her knees.

He considered offering a change of venue, so at least she wasn’t kneeling, but before he could get another word in, she’d released him from the confines of his pants and was holding his eyes as she took him in her mouth.

She had always been very giving in the bedroom, but this was…something else. There was a layer of reckless abandon that made it even more hypnotizing. And she had no plans to receive either, she lost herself in the moment of giving. She was enthusiastic, and took great pleasure in just watching his enjoyment. Henry leaned against the door, caressing her hair, resisting the temptation to encourage or direct her. She was doing just fine on her own. It wasn’t too long before she picked up the pace, and he realized she had every intention of finishing him off right there.

That wasn’t what he had in mind, he withdrew from her mouth and held her shoulder, stopping her. She started to object, but he pulled her up, turning her so her back was against the wall. Despite the cold, she wasn’t wearing leggings, so he ran a hand up her skirt and pulled her panties down. She was ready for him. He lifted her up, pinning her, slung her legs over his arms and braced his hands against the wall. She reached between them and guided him into her. He was already so close, and she had such a hair-trigger, it wasn’t long before he was picking up speed, driving into her. He eyes were squeezed shut, they were both almost there when, amongst the gasping and sighing, he heard her gasp “I love y-“ before cutting herself off with the cries of her climax.

He didn’t want to put her down, he kept his face buried in her hair until he felt her hit him. Not hard, just a playful tap on the shoulder. “Hey, I was trying to do something nice for you!” she pouted at him when he moved to look at her.

“I’d say you did just that!” he argued. “I thought that was more than ‘nice’…”

“You know what I mean!” she tried to scowl, but was ineffective.

“Thank you. It was fantastic,” he kissed her again, hoping that would serve as sufficient thanks. He let her down gently, and secured his trousers while she found her panties. “Go ahead and get comfortable, I’ll order a pizza.”

“You are my hero,” she smiled up at him, then pulled him in for another kiss. She skipped off to the stairs, going to get comfy.

He took a moment to himself. In the throes of climax she’d started to say something. He was pretty sure he’d heard her correctly. Was it intentional? Was it the alcohol? The sex? Was it true? His head was spinning. He felt like he’d been falling for her since the night they met. When he thought he’d lost her over the stupid things he’d said, he could feel his heart breaking even though he’d only known her for a week. But it had only been…what, a month? It seemed like it was too soon. If you had asked him even just an hour ago, he would have said it was way too soon even for her to hear it. Even just in that month, he knew how fiercely independent she was. And she’d just come off a divorce. But she was the one who said it. Well, started to say it, anyway.

He pulled out his phone and quickly put in a pizza order through an app, so she wouldn’t discover him standing there mooning over her. He picked up his overnight bag and slung it over his shoulder, and even hung up their coats to tidy things up a bit. When he made his way to the stairs, he looked up and saw her just a few steps up. She was in her favorite “comfies,” as she called them: an oversized sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder, and tiny little shorts. She was putting her hair up with a stick thing that he enjoyed, because it was easy to pull it out and watch her hair tumble. He did love her. He had felt it creeping up on him, but that moment, looking at her, was the first time he’d mentally said it. He loved her. He wasn’t just falling for her, he had fallen.

“Catch,” she said suddenly, leaping down the last few steps and into his arms. She just hung onto him, nuzzling his neck, letting her feet dangle. “Thank you.”

He held her there, heart beating a little faster from the surprise trust exercise. He wanted to remember this moment. Finally, he managed “Thank you for what?”

“Everything. Being you. This week,” she said into his neck, and planted a little kiss on him. “ _That_. Pizza.”

He chuckled, “Well, you’re most welcome. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything. Being you. This month. That.”

He could feel her smile against him as she said, “I win. You got me pizza.”

“Ah, those sweet words every man wants to hear from a woman: ‘I won.’”

“Only the smart men.” She loosened her grip and dropped to the floor. She tugged on the strap of his bag, “What’s Kal up to this weekend?”

“My brother has him.”

“You can bring him over here, you know,” she casually suggested.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, “Kal? Or my brother?”

“Well, I meant Kal, but either is fine,” she shrugged her bare shoulder.

He tried not to let it show that his heart leapt at the idea of introducing her to his family. He’d get through the weekend before scaring her off. “You wouldn’t mind the hair getting all over your things?”

“Well, if it’s Kal’s hair we’re talking about, I’ve had dogs before, I don’t mind. If your brother sheds a lot, that might get weird. Okay, I’ll let you get settled, get into your comfies.”

He held her face and kissed her, taking a last moment to just savor things. She jokingly grabbed his butt in both hands, giving it a good squeeze. He smiled into the kiss, and then went upstairs to unpack, feeling lighter than air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently this update put it at exactly 20000 words...it makes it tempting to end it there, but I don't think I will!


	16. Good Morning

When she woke, even with her eyes closed she could sense the light of a late-morning sunbreak in the loft, and she could feel Henry’s lips on her shoulder, his chest at her back, his arm wrapped around her, his hand tracing lazy patterns on her stomach. “That tickles,” she said, taking his hand in hers.

“Mmm, that was the point. Good morning, Birthday Girl! How are you feeling this morning?” he asked between kisses.

“I feel wonnnderful!” she purred, eyes still closed.

“No hangover?”

“No, I told you, I didn’t get that drunk last night. Just pleasantly tipsy,” she insisted. “I could stand to drink a glass of water, and I’ll be hungry as a bear, but no hangover.”

She could feel him moving on the bed behind her, then his hands rolling her onto her back. She kept her eyes closed, grinning, as she felt him prop himself up over her. He pinned her hands and kissed her neck, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. She slept with her panties on, and they were instantly damp feeling him rub into her. He moved down her body, kissing all the way. “Why are your eyes closed?”

“I like this dream, why would I open them?”

She could feel his rumbling chuckle through his chest more than she could hear it. “Well, I’ll be careful not to wake you too early,” he assured her, releasing her hands to pull off her panties, and finishing the journey down her stomach as she dug into his hair. She was just starting to think that running her fingers through his thick curls was her favorite sensation in the world, when his mouth met his goal, and the feel of his hair got downgraded.

When she was finished, and relaxed back into the bed, he kissed the inside of her thigh, and told her he’d go take a shower so she could get some more rest. She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, she could hear the shower turn off. She dug up some energy and popped out of bed, so she could go spy on him. She leaned against the door jamb in her robe and watched while he opened the shower curtain around the tub and grabbed at a towel. He was stunning all the time, but there was just something spectacular about watching the water run off his body, glistening. Watching his curls spring back after being toweled off. And just…the nudity of it all. It didn’t matter which angle she got, the view was excellent. She sighed a little as he stepped out of the tub and wrapped the towel around his waist, then she went to brush her teeth. She watched him in the mirror as he came up behind her, much like their first night together.

“Enjoy the view?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her.

“You’re all wet!” she squealed around a mouthful of toothpaste as she felt the silk stick to her back.

“Mmm, so are you,” he reminded her.

She spit out the toothpaste and rinsed off her toothbrush, then turned in his arms. “You know, I had such a wonderful dream this morning!” she teased.

“Oh really? What was it about?”

“Not much plot, just a lot of feeling good.”

“Was I involved?”

“I don’t know, no visuals. Could’ve been anyone. But, in case it was: thank you!”

“Darling, it was my pleasure. Happy birthday.”

She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in for an appreciative kiss. She tugged at his towel, but he caught her hand. “Will you never let me reciprocate? This hardly seems fair,” she pouted.

“My birthday is in May, if you were wondering what to get me,” he offered.

“May is so far away! But that does mean your half birthday is coming up…”

“I like the way you think, Y/L/N. It would be Tuesday.”

“Well I will put it in my calendar!” she smiled up at him. “So, what are the plans for today? Do I get to know?”

“Well, first you get to decide what’s for breakfast. Shall I cook for you, or would you prefer to go out?”

“I don’t think I have much in the way of breakfast supplies.”

He scrunched his face, “That is a fair point that I should have considered prior to this moment. Well, I have also scouted out the best brunch options within several kilometers.”

“Henry, really, I would be more than happy with a bacon roll from the corner chippy.”

“You said you weren’t hungover…”

“I’m not, I’m just hungry and I have low standards. Also…I don’t like it when you spend too much money. I can tell already you’re not going to let me spend a dime today, and there’s no sense in arguing with you. But I can at least attempt to haggle. I’m too hungry to get dressed for something fancy yet anyway.”

“You are correct, you are not allowed to pay for anything on your birthday. Alright, well, I won’t come between you and a meal. Get ready as you see fit, and I will whisk you away to a brunch of an appropriate level of fanciness. I’ll see you downstairs, love.” He gave her another kiss, then he was out the door, getting ready.

Had he…had he just called her “love”? It was a very British thing, many men would call any female-presenting person they met “love” or “lovey” or similar. But she couldn’t recall him calling her “love” before. It probably didn’t mean anything, she was just being American about it and blowing things out of proportion. But it still made her feel tingly. Was that where they were headed? They’d been dating for a month, and had really made an effort to see each other a lot during that time. This hadn’t been one-date-a-week territory, it went straight to whole-weekend-together, so the pacing wasn’t exactly normal. It still felt so fast, the ink was barely dry on her divorce papers, she shouldn’t be getting serious with someone so soon.

But then…why did it feel so damn _good_?


	17. Gifts

Henry had really outdone himself. The brunch place he settled for met her “not too spendy” qualifications, but was still delicious. Afterwards, instead of taking her home, he took her to a gorgeous spa. A facial, massage, and mani/pedi later, she still felt guilty about the extravagance of it all, but in a much more mellow way. He’d accomplished some errands of his own while she was getting pampered, although he was cagey about what they were. Then he whisked her off for some antique shopping. It was mutually acknowledged that her lack of proper bedside tables was a nuisance, but she couldn’t find anything she liked in the usual shops. And he just thought she would enjoy it.

She didn’t really find tables that she liked, but she found some apple crates that would work as a stopgap. She also found a lovely little box that she snuck off to buy for herself. It wasn’t extremely expensive, just more than she wanted Henry to spend. He hadn’t let her see the bill for the spa, but she was certain it would have made her jaw drop, so she just avoided the fight. Besides, the box was kind of a present for both of them, as she thought it was just the right size to store condoms with a little discretion.

They went back to her flat, and she was surprised to find that Henry must have stolen her keys and returned while she was at the spa. On her kitchen counter, there was a plate with pastries, a box of bougie French tea, and on her stove a shiny new copper kettle. He had bemoaned her lack of a proper kettle, greatly pained that she microwaved water for tea. He darted over to the fridge and pulled out some assorted foods, a little cheese and charcuterie plate, some tiny cakes.

“Your lack of a kettle was shameful. This isn’t a birthday present, it’s second-hand, and just getting your flat up to code,” he insisted.

“Well, thank you for this non-birthday present. I’m pretty sure a £5 electric kettle would have sufficed, but I’ll drop it. The kettle is gorgeous, I will treasure it,” she kissed him, and started tucking into the snacks. “So, I take it from this spread that dinner is going to be on the later side?”

“8, yes. I wouldn’t say that’s so late.”

“Well, maybe by Fancy British Gent standards. I’m just teasing, it’s fine. I’m just trying to figure out what’s the timeline here, so I can get ready.”

“You could go as you are, and you’d still be the most lovely woman in the restaurant,” he assured her.

“I very much doubt that. I’m greasy with massage oil,” she pointed out

“Glowing!” he corrected.

“I haven’t showered!”

“I hear that’s very _in_ right now.”

She gestured to her very casual Saturday-wear, “And I’m not exactly dressed to the nines.”

He ramped it up, sounding like an overwrought Shakespearean actor, “Your stunning beauty outshines even the finest eveningwear.”

“Okay, too far, Henry! Now you just sound crazy!”

“As you wish. But I have every confidence that I will be the luckiest man there, no matter what.”

Looking him up and down, she said, “What has gotten into you today? You’re acting suspicious.”

He attempted a pout, “You wound me, darling! I’m just full of birthday cheer for you!”

She gave him serious side-eye, “Bullshit. This is beyond ‘birthday cheer’. The surprises are already driving me crazy, I will lose my mind if…”

He cut her off, pulling her in. “I just…really like you. I wanted you to have the most special birthday you could have, and seeing you happy makes me happy. Quit trying to be a grouchy detective and enjoy it.”

She gave him one last suspicious look. “Alright, fine, you win. I will try to drop it. But hopefully now you understand why I am the single _worst_ person to try to surprise.”

“I am swiftly learning that lesson, although frankly it doesn’t make it any less fun for me. Would you like to have your present now, so you don’t have to…”

“YES.”

He laughed and jogged to get it from his overnight bag. She waited, impatiently, and when he walked up with it behind his back, she rolled her eyes. “Actors are so dramatic,” she teased, trying to suppress her squirming. When he stood in front of her, he just loomed for a second to extend the drama, but pulled the gift out before she could say anything else. She eyed it for a moment. Pulled off the bow, delicately removed the wrapping paper, and saw it was clearly a jewelry box inside, probably for a necklace. She grimaced, “Henry! I _told_ you…”

“Would you just open it before chastising me? Please?”

She heaved a sigh, and popped the box open. “Oh!” she gasped. It was…not what she’s expected at all. It was a simple necklace, no diamonds or precious stones, not even fake ones. It was a disk of wood and opalescent resin on a simple silver chain. Very simple, something she could wear any day of the week, to work or out. It was very much her tastes, and it couldn’t have been more than maybe £50-60, unless someone had very much ripped him off. “Oh, Henry, this is perfect!” she breathed.

Henry let out a breath he hadn’t realize he’d been holding. “Really? You like it?”

“I love it! It’s beautiful!”

He spluttered, “I…I would have got you something fancier, but…”

“I wouldn’t have let you. This is perfect, really Henry. Even if we’d been together for years, I would still prefer this to diamonds.”

“Are you sure? Because I would buy you diamonds.”

“Henry! Accept the compliment! I love this! Here, help me put it on,” she pulled apart the box to extract the rest of the chain, and handed it to him. She turned around and held the wispy hairs at her neck out of the way. He delicately placed the necklace and fastened the clasp. She turned back to him, smiling, feeling at it, trying to admire it without the benefit of a mirror.

He realized her eyes were starting to look wet, and he lifted her face. “What’s wrong? Really, I will run out right now and get you diamonds…”

She kissed his hand, “Nothing’s wrong, I’m happy. You listened to me. You respected my wishes. And this gift is really thoughtful. These aren’t sad tears, they’re ‘well done, Henry!’ tears. Thank you so much, Henry, I can’t express enough how much I love it.”

The word floated in the air between them for a moment. True, it was about the gift, not him. But both of their hearts skipped a beat to have the word said aloud.

She pulled him in for a kiss, wanting to hold on to this moment. She had been so, so worried about the present. It was such a relief, because it was more than a present. It said so much more than that. He’d gone against his own judgement and done the right thing. He didn’t assume anything about why she’d made the request she did, he didn’t question it, he didn’t push the boundary. He’d just accepted it. He’d accepted _her_.

Henry was the one to break the kiss just as things were starting to heat up. “Much though I would like to give you additional gifts in bed, I should probably let you start getting ready.” She looked at the time and agreed, skipping off to the loft.

She took a long shower, and spent lots of time on her hair. She’d seen the suit Henry had brought over, and was starting to think she should have paid someone to do her hair for her to try to narrow the gap between them. But, ultimately, she was proud of the updo she managed. She put her makeup on, spending an unusually long time picking a lipstick. She scooted to the closet, got dressed. Then, with one last look in the mirror, she took a deep breath and descended the stairs.

He jumped off the couch the second he heard her on the stairs. His heart leapt into his throat as he watched her. She was stunning. He’d been wrong earlier: he wasn’t going to just be the luckiest man in the restaurant, he was the luckiest man in the world.


	18. Dinner at 8

When they got to the restaurant, they were speedily whisked to their table. It had a stunning view, the menu looked exquisite, and the staff was wonderful. They put in their orders for a multi-course extravaganza of food and drinks, and settled into talking. Y/N was beaming with excitement, and Henry beamed right back with reflected glow. After the first course, she excused herself to the bathroom, leaving Henry with his thoughts for a moment. He thought it couldn’t be going better. She was happy, he was happy, the food was delicious.

He was starting to think ahead to getting back to her place, getting her out of that dress, when he heard a voice behind him. “Excuse me, are you Henry Cavill?”

He turned sheepishly to the young woman trying to get his attention. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

The woman tried to balance a look between excitement and simpering. She was in a tight red dress that didn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination. “Oh, I love your films! Could I get a quick photo with you?”

“Actually, I’m right in the middle of…”

“Oh, please! It would just mean the world to me!” she begged.

Y/N walked up just in time to see the blonde in the red dress clutch at Henry’s arm. She stilled for just a moment, not sure what was going on. This woman was practically sitting in his lap. Did he know her? She continued back to the table, and Henry brushed the woman aside to help Y/N back into her chair. It wasn’t necessary, but it made her feel a bit better.

As he returned to his seat, he said to the other woman, “We’re in the middle of our meal, and I do not wish to be rude. Maybe after we’ve finished, if you’re still around.” She tossed her hair and left in a bit of a huff. Henry sat back down, returning his gaze to Y/N, “I’m sorry about that.”

“What did she want?”

“A photo.”

She was a little surprised. It didn’t seem like much. “You could have taken a selfie with her, I don’t mind.”

“I didn’t want to. It was rude of her to ask in the middle of our meal, and I don’t want to set a precedent.” He heaved a sigh, worried he was ruining the evening. “Besides, if she had posted it, and tagged the location, before you know it we’d have paparazzi chasing us down. I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t want this to happen.”

“It’s really fine. It had to happen eventually, I’m not so naive to think we’d exist in a bubble. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.”

“But it’s your birthday! Tonight is about making _you_ feel special,” he insisted.

“Well then let’s change subjects. There’s a rugby match tomorrow, isn’t there?” she attempted.

He quirked an eyebrow suspiciously, “You don’t care about rugby.”

“Not entirely true. I don’t _know_ anything about rugby. I’m supposed to root _against_ England, right?” she nudged him with her foot under the table, trying to lighten the mood. It worked, and the server came by with the next course, stealing their attention.

When the meal was finished, they got their coats, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder to guide her outside. One of the restaurant staff stopped them before they reached the doors, saying “I’m sorry, Mr Cavill, but I would recommend you wait until your car arrives to go out. I can offer the kitchen exit, if you prefer.” Henry cursed under his breath in response.

“What’s going on?” Y/N piped up.

“Madame, I am afraid there are photographers out front. We’ve tried to disperse them, but we have no recourse,” the staffer conveyed with regret.

Henry started thinking through alternatives, “I’m so sorry, the woman from earlier must have tipped them off. Y/N, why don’t you go on without me? I can meet you at home.”

She briefly noticed that he’d said “home” instead of “your flat,” but she forced her attention back to the matter at hand. “This is your world more than mine, Henry. If you don’t want to be photographed with me…”

He grabbed her arms, “That’s not it at all! I just didn’t want you to deal with this before you were ready.”

“It was a matter of time, Henry. I’m surprised we’ve made it this long, you’re not exactly subtle,” she winked at him.

“Do your family and friends know about me?” he asked quietly, suddenly a little timid.

“A couple of friends from back home do. I was planning on telling my family this weekend.” This was not exactly a conversation she’d wanted to have while a poor host stood nearby, pretending not to hear. “Well, people know I’ve been seeing someone named ‘Henry,’ they just…haven’t heard a last name.”

“Are you embarrassed of me?” he asked quietly.

She laughed louder than she intended, “Absolutely not! Just no one would believe me! And I didn’t want to create problems for you, if someone said something. I don’t know how this works!”

He smiled down at her. “Alright, then shall we escape through the kitchen? Or see your face on the Globe tomorrow?”

“I can’t run through an alley in these shoes, so…let’s just go for it!”

He kissed her, and they stayed inside waiting for the driver to arrive. When the time came, he ushered her through the crowd of paparazzi, trying to shield her on the way to the car. They had a number of questions hurled at them, Henry ignored them, and they ducked into the car. Once they were seated and the driver could speed off, Henry reassured her, “You did well, that’s never easy.”

“Well, I’m going to reserve judgement until I see what pictures get used. I should call my mom.” She gave him a scrunch-faced grin, whishing she didn’t have to have this talk while he was here. She had some missed calls from her mom, and if her mom found out from someone else first, she’d be dead, so she called immediately. “Hey mom! Thanks, and thanks for giving birth to me! I know, sorry about that. How’s your weekend? Good! Yeah, I’ve had a wonderful birthday. I spent it with Henry, yes. No, ugh, mom! So, I wanted to tell you something…the Henry I’ve been seeing…hoo boy, how do I say this? Did you see Superman? No? Um…did you watch the Tudors? Okay, you know what, never mind, this would take all night. Google ‘Henry Cavill’, that’s the Henry I’m dating. C-A-V-I-L-L, yeah. Yes, yes he is. Mmhmm. Sure, put dad on. Hi dad! How’s it…yes. Yes, he is. Yes, he does. Jesus Christ, dad! That is _none_ of your business! Thanks, I guess? You know it’s my birthday, right? Thaaaanks. No, no, I’m not doing this. I’ll talk to you later, put mom back on. Love you too. Hey mom! Yeah, so, I just wanted to tell you because some paparazzi got some pictures of us. No, it was very respectable, calm down, we were just coming out of a restaurant. Yes, it was a nice restaurant. I don’t know. Okay, you know what? I’ll call you tomorrow when you’ve finished your Googling. I love you, bye.”

She sat with her head in her hands for a moment. Henry was shaking with suppressed laughter. “Please tell me you didn’t hear their side of things,” she pleaded.

“Not…really? Only a little? That wasn’t all bad! They care about you!” he tried to reassure her, but it was belied by his laughter.

“Welp, I’m going to go die now!” she moved her hands like she was going to open the door and jump into traffic.

He grabbed her hands, even if she was just teasing. “Nonsense! It was very sweet!”

“What kind of actor are you? At least try to say it without laughing at me!” she was smiling, even if she was blushing hard enough he could see it in the dark car.

He tried to straighten up, put on a straight face, “Worry not, sweet Y/N. Your parents were just…” and then he broke. “Sorry, I just can’t believe your father asked about…”

“It was bad enough to hear him ask it! Don’t repeat it! Ugh, can adults divorce their parents?” she groaned.

“Well, I’m sure when you meet my family, my brothers will thoroughly embarrass both of us.”

“I think if we want to have a competition for who can be more embarrassing, the Americans will win any day of the week,” she challenged.

Trying to back away from the specific embarrassment of the conversation, Henry ventured, “Are you going to visit them over the holidays?”

“No, I hadn’t planned on it. I prefer not to travel over the holidays, I might go over in February, or later in the spring.”

That surprised him, for some reason. He hadn’t really considered the possibility she’d be alone on Christmas. “What were you going to do for the holidays, then?”

“See how London does Christmas. Then…I don’t know, make myself a Christmas dinner? Wait for the sweets to go on special after? I hadn’t thought too hard about it. What does your family do for the holidays?”

“Well, I have a lot of press stuff for The Witcher in December. Then I’ll head to Jersey, stay with my family. The whole clan will be there.”

She tried not to let her heart drop too much. She hadn’t really thought about the timing of the release, of course Henry would be busy in December. She aimed for the positive: “Well that all sounds like fun! You’ll get to see your castmates again, and then some time with your family! That’s lovely!”

Henry summoned up his courage, “Y/N, would you like to come to the premiere with me? The first one is here in London, you wouldn’t even have to travel.”

Her mouth dropped open, “Really? That seems like…are you sure?

“It’ll be more fun with you there. You’d get to meet everyone, you’ll see the first episode, you can dress up again.”

“Wow, I just…I don’t have any scale for this kind of thing. I…yes? Yes. Yes! I’d love to!”

“And if you would like…you can come to my family’s house for Christmas.”

She was silent for a moment, looking at her hands. “Henry, that seems like a _really_ big step…”

“I don’t want to pressure you, I just thought, since you didn’t have any plans, it might be nice.”

“I don’t know if I’m really a ‘meet the family’ kind of girl. My mother in law _hated_ me. And my brother in law was even worse.”

“Now I’m sure that’s not…well, I’m sure that if it’s true, it was more about them than you,” borrowing one of her regular phrases. “My family will love you, I promise.”

She thought for a moment. “How about this: let’s just check back in in a month. If you still haven’t realized how ridiculous I am at that point, and you still want me to go, I will go. But I won’t come for actual Christmas, I don’t want to intrude on family time.”

He tried to insist, “You wouldn’t be…”

“That’s my final offer,” she cut him off, offering her hand to shake and close the deal.

He tried to suppress a smile and failed, “You drive a hard bargain, Y/L/N, but it’s a deal. We reconvene in one month.” He shook her hand, and then pulled her in for a kiss to hide his excitement. This was going to happen. The woman he loved was going to be with him at a premiere, and then she would meet his family. He just had to figure out the right time to let her in on the fact that he loved her.


	19. 5 Minutes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: pregnancy discussion

Shit. Shit shit shit. Here she was, 36 years old, divorced, standing in Boots looking over her shoulder like a teenager. Trying to choose a pregnancy test. The night before her birthday, when she was a little drunk and a whole lotta horny, they’d forgotten the condom. She was on birth control, though. And she was pretty sure she’d taken it that night. Didn’t she? She wouldn’t forget that. Maybe the condom broke another night? Anyway, now her period was a couple days late. For some women that might not be a big deal, but hers had been like clockwork for years. And this morning she didn’t feel so hot, but it wasn’t standard PMS symptoms, she’d wanted to barf. So…how do you choose a pregnancy test?

When she got back home, she sat staring at the kit for a while. Henry was supposed to come by soon. She felt so stupid. Should she wait ‘til he got here? The mature thing would be to involve him in this, he was just as responsible. God, she didn’t want to have this conversation.

She spent enough time pondering it that she ran down the clock: Henry buzzed at the door, and she let him in. From the moment he saw her, he could tell she was upset. “Y/N, is everything alright?” he asked, pulling her in for a hug.

“Henry…we’ve gotta talk,” she took him by the hand and pulled him into her flat.

His heart started racing. She couldn’t be breaking up with him, things had been going so well, what could… “Oh.” He saw the pregnancy test on the table. “Y/N, I…”

“I haven’t taken it yet. I just…my period is late.” There wasn’t much else for her to say.

He was speechless for a moment, she looked down at the ground, avoiding his eyes. He knew that this was a big moment, and he had to choose his next words very carefully. “Whatever happens, we’ll work it out. I support you and I…I care about you. A lot. We’ll work it out.” He lifted her face, hoping she would see the sincerity and depth of feeling there. The tears brimming in her eyes broke his heart, she looked so scared.

She took a deep breath, and exhaled. “Okay, well, there’s no sense in dragging this out. We can’t do much without the answer.”

He took her hands, gave them a squeeze, then let her go get the test and head to the bathroom. He leaned against the wall next to the door, not sure what else to do with himself. What if she was pregnant? What if she wasn’t? Regardless of how he felt about Y/N, they hadn’t talked about the future. He didn’t know if she wanted kids at all, much less his. Or marriage, especially after how her first one ended. He did want those things, eventually. And he was mad about her. But “eventually” wasn’t going to matter if she was pregnant _now_. He went to put the kettle on. He might not know what to do, but tea would probably help.

The door opened, and she stepped out, test in hand. “It’s supposed to take 5 minutes,” she explained, unable to tear her eyes from the little window.

“I’m making some tea, you can sit,” he offered. She stood there, not ignoring him, just too scared to do anything else. He asked, “Do you want to talk, or just wait?”

She didn’t answer, just walked over and wrapped her arms around his waist, he felt a wet spot form on his shirt from her tears, felt her shoulders shake a little, but she didn’t say anything. They both needed comfort more than anything else. They just held each other for moment, then shifted so they could watch the little screen.

Finally, the result: “Not Pregnant”.

She let out a shuddering breath and buried her face in his chest. He squeezed her, kissing the top of her head. The kettle started to whistle, and they loosened their hold on each other. “Go ahead and sit, I’ll get the tea.”

She did as he said, curling up into a ball in the corner of the couch. He bustled, hands shaking a little as he got the tea things together and brought them over to her. He placed the mug in her hands and sat back. “How do you feel?”

She thought for a moment, trying to straighten out everything that was tumbling through her head. “I’m just…overwhelmed.”

“It is rather a lot,” he agreed.

“I mean…obviously I didn’t want to get pregnant. It’s why I wanted to be careful. So, that was scary as hell, and I’m relieved. But…I don’t know, it’s a little sad, too.” She took a deep breath before continuing, “Just before I got divorced, we’d talked about trying for a kid. I was _so_ ready. I mean, I’m not getting younger, and my hormones are just…anyway. It’s for the best that it didn’t happen with him, clearly. But part of me still really wants a baby. I hadn’t really realized how much. To be clear: I don’t want to get pregnant right now. I don’t want to do that to you, trap you like that. I just…if it was different, if that test had been positive, I don’t know what I would want to do. I’m sorry, this is a lot to put on you.”

He took her tea from her and put both mugs down and pulled her into his lap. “Not at all. Not at all.” He held her to him, cradling her, burying his face in her hair.

“How do you feel?”

“Pretty overwhelmed, too. It is a lot,” he gathered himself for a moment. “I’m relieved. I do want to have kids someday.”

“But not after dating someone for a month and a half?” she gave him a somewhat sardonic grin.

“Well, no. Not because of the person, but a month and a half _is_ rather a short runway,” he admitted. “But thank you for telling me everything. You didn’t have to involve me in this at all.”

“Well, I think you were involved at least in the beginning…” she poked him in the chest.

He couldn’t help but smile, “True. But that involvement was a bit different. Very fun, to be certain. Especially if it’s the night I think it was. But you could have just tested, found out, not told me, and gone on with life. Or dumped me. Or even just told me and left it at ‘everything is fine’ and skipped past how you really felt.”

“Well, I can’t say it didn’t cross my mind. But it wouldn’t have been fair. You’re a good man, Henry. We’ve got to be in this together,” she nodded, looking like she was reassuring herself.

He froze for a moment, feeling the weight of what she said. They were in it together. He kissed her, trying to do something with the emotions boiling up inside. He held her face, confirming the realness of her. She was here, she was with him. She was not pregnant. But maybe someday…

He started to deepen the kiss, but backed off, breaking it. He held her face, forehead to forehead, just looking into her beautiful, teary eyes. “I love you,” he felt the words fall from his mouth. And he saw, right in front of him, her eyes get a little wider. Felt her body freeze up. Heard that sharp intake of breath.

“Henry…I…” she stumbled.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“No…I just…wow. I wasn’t expecting that,” her eyes were still big. But she hadn’t run away, he hoped that was a good thing. “I…I’m not ready,” she confessed, shaking her head a little. It was his turn to freeze a little. She tried to clarify, “It’s not that I’m not ready for _you_ , I’m just…wow, this is a day for big conversations, huh? I really like you. I really want to be with you. I don’t want to date anyone else, I haven’t even tried since we met. I want to meet your family. But it’s so hard to trust myself here. With the divorce, I…I don’t want to be wrong. I don’t want this just to be a rebound, or me just wanting attention or anything. You deserve better than that.”

“I deserve _you_ ,” he insisted. He knew this wasn’t an argument, this wasn’t something he could or should convince her about. But he also couldn’t stop himself.

“You deserve _better_ than me! Henry, I’m just still a little broken. I’m getting there, I’m healing. And you are…you’re the best. Just be a little patient with me. Please.”

He caressed her face, eyes softening as he smiled. “Anything. I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.” She kissed him, and he could feel it: She loved him, too. She might not be ready to accept it, and she might not be ready to say it, but it was there. He just had to hold on.

He rolled her under him, onto the couch. They both needed this, they needed to feel each other, needed to show how they felt. He needed to back up his words, and she needed to find a way to voice what she couldn’t say.

As she wrapped herself around him, grasping desperately to feel him against her, they both broke the kiss. “Condom!” they said at the same time.


	20. Fighting

“Okay, rise and shine, love. I’ve got to work out and you’re coming with me,” Henry insisted.

“Fat fucking chance,” she responded, burying herself as hard as she could in his pillows.

“You need to move. I know our scare hit you hard, but you can’t beat yourself up all week. Come exercise with me. You need it.”

She lifted her head out of the pillows just enough that she could be sure Henry would see her raise an eyebrow, “Do you think it’s a wise choice to tell me I need exercise when our first fight was because you basically called me fat on our second date?”

“…point taken, and I will apologize gratuitously in both words and sexual favors. But I meant you need it _emotionally_. Come on, you’ll like this, I promise. And if you don’t, I will make it up to you however you wish.”

“You should be more careful making open-ended promises, that’s a lot of trust that I’m not going to take advantage of you.” She rolled onto her back. “What kind of working out are we talking here?”

“Well, today I was going to a jiu jitsu private lesson.”

“Is this a kink thing, or have you been secretly wanting to beat me up this whole time, or…?”

“None of the above! I just thought it would be good for you to punch out some feelings! I won’t lay a finger on you.”

“Does it have to be jiu jitsu? Can I just try boxing? I don’t think I can roundhouse anybody.”

“Fine, my trainer can adjust. It’s a deal! No going back on your word!”

“Woah, I didn’t agree to anything yet! I don’t have any workout clothes here, anyway, so maybe some other time,” she started to roll onto her side again and tuck the covers closer to her chin.

He plopped next to her on the bed, impeding her roll. “Well look here!” he pulled out a handful from behind his back, and she recognized her gear. “No excuses! UP.” He peeled the covers back enough to reach under and squeeze her ass a little.

She groaned as gratuitously as possible. She _had_ kind of been thinking that taking up a martial art might be fun, but they all seemed super intimidating. And Henry…well, he’d been working at it for years now, he was no novice, much less the fact he was nearly a foot taller than her and just made of muscle. Ugh, she was going to get winded in five minutes and just embarrass herself. But she got her kit on, and made a production of following him to the car, hoping if this whole process sucked for him he wouldn’t ask again.

Of course, he saw through her. He was very supportive and sweet during the drive, reassuring her, telling her how fun it would be, and if she didn’t like it, no great loss, they didn’t have to do it again.

She grumbled, “They never tell you what a pain in the ass it can be to have a supportive boyfriend.” Henry just beamed, not sure he’d heard her use a label like that for him before, and proud to know he was supportive, even if she was grumpy. When they got there, Kal got to come in, too. He got settled in a corner, and Y/N was immediately jealous. “Can I do the Kal workout routine? That seems more my speed.”

“No. Y/N, this is Jesse. Jesse, this is Y/N. She needs to work out some things, and she’s open to trying a little bag therapy! Let’s do some boxing today,” Henry was practically bouncing with enthusiasm.

“Then boxing it is! Nice to meet ya, Y/N!” Jesse eagerly shook her hand in both of his.

“Hi Jesse, nice to meet you. I’ve never done anything like this before, so I’m mostly hoping not to embarrass myself too badly,” Y/N tried to force a smile. Jesse was not as tall as Henry, but still built like a brick house, he was cute and he sounded Australian. Not like Y/N was going to jump him or anything, but it just felt like a lot of pressure to try something she would probably suck at in front of two big, strapping lads. Well, time to try.

“No worries, I’ll go easy on ya. Henry, help her get her hands wrapped, and then we’ll warm up a little,” Jesse instructed.

Henry was already coming over with little rolls of fabric. He was so giddy, how did he have so much energy this early? “Okay, we’ll start with your left hand. Tell me if it’s too tight,” he explained as he unraveled the roll. He hooked the loop over her thumb and started to wrap the long strip around her hand.

When he’d used up most of the fabric, she wiggled her fingers, “That feels a little tight, Henry.”

“Well, it should be snug…”

“I can barely make a fist, and my fingers will get numb, it’s too tight. My hands are smaller than yours, it’ll wrap thicker,” she pointed out.

“Here, mate, let me have a go. I wrote your warm-ups on the board, you get started,” Jesse approached, shouldering Henry out of the way and taking her hand. Henry eyed him a little, then went off to start warming up. “Alright, love, here we go. Let’s try something a little different, might fit you better. There are as many ways to wrap a hand as there are fish in the sea, we’ll find one you like.”

He undid the wrap and tried again. “Could you go a little slower, so I can see how you did it?” she asked.

“No worries, I’ll go slow. Alright, sweetheart, so to start…” he explained as he went, showing her the various steps and why they were important. She could see why he got into teaching martial arts, he was patient and good at explaining things. When he finished the left hand, he asked, “How does that feel, sweetheart?”

“It feels a little weird to have the guy who’s supposed to teach me how to punch use a bunch of terms of endearment for me,” she said with no small amount of sarcasm, but a playful smile on her face.

“Feisty, I like it! That’ll serve you well with boxing! How about the hand?”

“It feels good. Strong. And the blood is still flowing, so that’s a plus!”

“Alright, let’s get the next one done, then!” he took her right hand and showed her again. She could see Henry watching them, and she caught his eye. She expected to get a mischievous grin, but he must’ve been too focused. She turned her attention back to Jesse, who was finishing. “There we are! Now it’s time for you to warm up, how do you usually work out?”

“I’m more of a yoga and long walks kind of gal, really,” she confessed.

“Then how about a sun salutation or two to loosen up a little, and then grab one of those jump ropes until I get Henry settled?”

“Wow, I haven’t skipped rope since grade school! But sounds good!” she trotted off to warm up.

Jesse watched her get started, then turned to good-naturedly shout at Henry as he finished his warm-ups. His warm-up was more intense, even when he wasn’t actively preparing for a film he was in excellent shape. When he finished, Jesse talked him through the drills he was supposed to start with. Y/N had started jumping rope already and was finding that it came back pretty naturally. She was watching Henry, wanting to see his body in action. Well, someplace other than the bedroom. But he was kind of scowling at Jesse, which surprised her. He’d been in such a good mood when they got there, was this just his game-face or something?

But Henry started doing the drills, and after giving a few critiques, Jesse jogged over to Y/N. Jesse explained how the stance was supposed to work and went over the different kinds of punches. She assumed the position and got to work. It felt pretty good, she had to admit. Even just punching the air, it felt strong. He gave her a couple minor corrections, but then insisted she was a natural. He encouraged her to keep going, while he switched back to Henry.

She was focused on her drills, but if she had watched Henry, she would have noticed that he was positively fuming. Every time Jesse touched Y/N, or smiled at her, or even if she just looked at him, Henry got a little angrier. He was taking it out on the bag, but it just resulted in bad form, which lead to Jesse criticizing him, which made him even angrier. He knew it was ridiculous, but...why was he touching her like that? It just didn’t seem necessary.

“Alright, mate, you want to get some gloves on, go one against the mitts?” Jesse suggested, and Henry just kind of grunted in response. “Y/N is a natural, you’ve got quite the fighter on your hands there! She’s got excellent form!” he jovially praised her as Henry got his gloves on. “She just fell right into the stance, hardly had to tell her anything.”

“Let’s just do this,” Henry insisted. They started, and right from the get-go, Henry wasn’t pulling his punches. He was hitting _hard_. Even with the mitts, Jesse was having to back up, little by little, and use all of his strength to fend Henry off.

Jesse called the drill off and mixed things up. “Y/N, come over here. Henry, you switch to mitts, Y/N, grab a pair of gloves. Alright, now, love…sorry, Y/N, I want you to do a 1, 2, 3. So that’ll be a jab with your left, you’ll hit Henry in this mitt. Then a cross, hit here. Then try a left hook, here, I’ll show you…” he held her elbow up, showed her the trajectory her arm should go on. “Excellent! Alright, mitts up, Henry, or I’ll let her hit your pretty face.”

“Ooh, Henry, you wouldn’t want that, would you?” she teased. “I’m ready to float like a butterfly, sting like a bee!” she tried to joke with him, lighten the mood a little, but Henry stayed stoic.

They went through that plus a few more drills, giving Y/N a chance to learn, and then moved Henry back to the bags. Jesse wasn’t willing to spar with Henry when he was in a mood like this, so he gave him some final bag drills, and then some cool-down workouts, and went and talked to Y/N. “You’re a real talent, Y/N!”

“Oh, I’m sure you tell that to every girl that walks in here,” she demurred.

“I wouldn’t think of it! Really, you’ve got a knack for boxing! You should come back, we have group classes, or I’ll even give you private lessons for free!”

“That’s so generous! I couldn’t accept that!”

“Nah, it would be my pleasure! Here, let me show you a couple more moves while Henry’s finishing up.”

He helped her work on her footwork a little bit more, going forward and back, side-to-side. At one point, while he pivoted around, and she had to sidestep around him, she pointed out “This is like dancing! Even the music sounds like it’s in 3/4 time, it’s a waltz!”

He laughed, “It _is_ like a dance, I even get to lead!”

She kept tight eye contact with him, it was easier to anticipate which way he would move when their eyes were locked. She noticed it was creating a bit more intimacy than she’d intended, but this realization distracted her, and she tripped over her feet, falling backwards. Jesse had a fighter’s reflexes and caught her on the way down, it looked like he was dipping her. “Well now it’s definitely a dance!” he observed. He helped her back to her feet, she laughed and thanked him. He held his hand on her arm longer than necessary, and asked “Hey, Y/N, would you like to grab a bite sometime?”

Her eyes widened in surprise, “Oh, Jesse, that’s so sweet, but…I’m seeing someone. Henry, actually.”

He pulled his hand back from her like she was a hot stove, “Oh! Oh, shit! No wonder he…I’m so sorry, Y/N! Well, what I said earlier still stands, you are welcome to come by any time for free lessons! You really are a natural! I hope I didn’t scare you off!”

“Not at all! But I’ll have to look at my schedule, I’ll see if I can make a class.”

Henry finished and stalked over. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Thanks, Jesse, that was fun!”

“My pleasure, hope to see you again! Henry, good to see ya man, keep up the footwork!” Jesse tried to keep up the enthusiasm in the face of Henry’s dark mood.

Henry grunted, got his things together and put Kal on a leash.

As soon as the car doors closed, Henry said “What the fuck was all _that_?”

“Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing! What has gotten into you?” Y/N returned.

“Why were you flirting like that? Right in front of me?”

“What are you _talking_ about, Henry? You dragged me here! He was teaching me how to box, like you _asked_ him to!”

“But _you_ didn’t need to…”

“To what, Henry? Be nice to him? Smile like a human being? Do the things the teacher told me to?” she took some of the wind out of his sails. “Henry, you can feel how you feel. But you are a grown-ass man in charge of his own behavior. You don’t get to act like an asshole.”

“I’m not acting like an asshole! He was flirting with you, I was right there, I saw it!”

“First off, who cares if he was flirting with me? Don’t you trust me not to be seduced away by any guy who flirts? And, secondly, maybe if you would introduce me as your girlfriend, he would have known better!”

That shook him. “…wait, what?”

“When you introduced us, you didn’t say I was your girlfriend. You didn’t say anything! I may as well have been a random woman you just met, for all the warmth you showed. Did you tell him in advance you were bringing your girlfriend?”

He was starting to look sheepish, “no.”

“Well there you have it.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t even think…I was just excited to have you there, and I didn’t think about it. I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you.”

“No,” she bit back, “you shouldn’t have. Just take me home.”

“But…I said I’m sorry.”

“No, you just realized you were wrong for getting mad at me. You don’t even know why I’m mad.”

He didn’t really want to ask. “Why are you mad?” he cringed a little in anticipation of her fury.

“You fucked up. Fine, don’t tell people I’m your girlfriend. Whatever. Be embarrassed. But then you ran with a real dumb assumption. You just spiraled. You didn’t ask me, you didn’t talk to me, you didn’t stop to think. You just went straight to not trusting me. And you acted like a real asshole to me and to Jesse. He must have felt like a jerk that he’d both wasted his time with me AND probably lost a client in you. And I felt like a dumbass, too. I thought I was doing well, I thought I might be good at this, I didn’t think he was just flirting with me, trying to be nice! And now I feel like shit. And Jesse probably does too, when he did _nothing_ wrong.”

“That’s…that’s not my fault,” he tried.

“Oh, of course not!” she spat. “Look, just drive me home.”

“No. Y/N, be reasonable,” he pleaded, choosing the wrong word.

“Fuck you,” she said as she got out of the car and started striding off down the sidewalk. She wasn’t dressed for the November weather, in a sweaty t-shirt and short running shorts. But she was mad. She didn’t really have a plan, she just wanted to get home and get away from Henry. She crossed her arms over her chest and did her best to hustle her way through the cold November morning. She should get a Lyft. She could hear the car door opening and closing behind her, heard some boofing noises she knew were Kal’s. In moments, she felt the fuzzy bear alongside her, leash dragging. She picked up the leash without breaking stride. There was no sense in running, she knew Henry could catch up. But she didn’t need to stop.

“Please, Y/N, that’s not what I meant!”

“It never is! It’s never your fault! You just get to say and do boneheaded shit and everyone’s supposed to forgive you!”

“Please, Y/N, just come back to the car.”

“I’m not sure which part of ‘fuck you’ was unclear.”

“Fine, you want to do this right here? Let’s do this. At least look at me.”

She stopped and pivoted. They left so fast, she hadn’t even unwrapped her hands. That, combined with the huge dog, her arms angrily crossed, her hip cocked to the side in the universal posture of annoyance, and her face…all 5’3” of her looked like she was not to be fucked with.

“Alright, you talked your way into this, go ahead and try to talk your way out. Make it fast, I’m freezing.”

“Firstly, I am not embarrassed of you. I should have introduced you, I just took it for granted that it’s obvious I love you.” He paused, waiting for her to say something, or at least for her posture to soften. It didn’t. “Secondly, it was a boneheaded assumption, as you put it. I know you wouldn’t flirt with another man in front of me. I don’t know why I acted like that. Thirdly, you really _were_ doing well in there. Jesse wasn’t flirting. Well, he wasn’t _just_ flirting.” Her face darkened even further at that, making it clear this was not the time. “You weren’t a dumbass. I was the dumbass. Please, come back to the car.”

She crouched down to pet Kal. She was making eye contact with the dog when she said, “Okay, but not because this is over or because I forgive you. Purely because I just realized my keys are back at your house. I’m going home as soon as I get there.” She stood and strode right past him, dodging his hand as he reached for her.

She got Kal settled in the back and sat as far from Henry as she could get in the small sportscar. Her arms stayed crossed and she stared adamantly out the window. He could see she was shivering and trying her best to hide it, so he turned on the heat and tried to think of what to say. This fight wasn’t worth all this. And he’d just told her he loved her. He had to figure out a way to make it right.

They drove back to his house in silence. After he let her in, she went right to his room, grabbing up her clothes, then trying to find her bag. She wasn’t kidding, she was getting right out of there.

Henry scooped up her bag, blocking the exit. “Give me my bag and get out of my way, Henry.”

“Please, Y/N, how can I make this right?” he begged.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if you can.”

He had been thinking of this as just a fight before, he hadn’t thought he could lose her over this. He panicked, “Please, please, just tell me what to do.”

“That’s the problem, Henry. I can’t tell you what to do. I just…I don’t know if I can do this. This cycle of you saying something hurtful, or doing something without thinking. And then you say nice things and I forgive you and we have sex and it’s all better. But you can’t undo the things you say. I can’t absolve you of them. The hurt they caused in the first place is just as real no matter how pretty the apology. Everybody says and does things they regret from time to time, but twice? In a month and a half? How can I feel good about that? How can I be okay forgiving you and just waiting for the next time, wondering if it’ll hurt worse?”

He was speechless. She was right. He was always sticking his fucking foot in his mouth, knowing he would be forgiven. But he didn’t want to do that to her, didn’t want to hurt her. She deserved better than that. He loved her, he wouldn’t tolerate anyone treating her the way he had. She was right to set this boundary for herself. He couldn’t even argue with it, there was nothing to argue against.

“Y/N I…you’re right. You’re completely right. I don’t know what else to say.”

She just looked at him for a moment. “Let me know when you do.” With that, she took her purse from him and moved past him, out the door. He wanted to grab her, stop her, kiss her. But he knew she would hate him for that.

While she stood outside in the cold, waiting for her Lyft, she could hear his frustrated bellow from inside the house. She flinched, scared of both his anger and her overwhelming drive to go in and comfort him against the situation _he_ created. It was only then that she let herself start to cry.


	21. Learning

She got home, and had a beer while she showered. She wasn’t really sure how to feel. Angry, mostly, although she hadn’t settled on who she was most angry at. Henry had shown his true colors on their second date. He was a rich, privileged white dude, he was used to saying and doing exactly what he wanted. He was 36 years old, it was how he’d lived his whole life. People don’t change.

And that’s why she was mad at herself. She let herself get all wrapped up in him. After the divorce…it was so hard to get used to being on her own. She hadn’t been well and truly single in years, and it was scary. Dating was hard. There had been some fun parts, but she knew she wasn’t really cut out for it. So falling into a relationship at the first opportunity felt a little too good. Being part of a couple was like a habit. She should’ve known it was too good to be true.

And things were never going to be normal. She’d caught him when he wasn’t off filming something, he didn’t have many major obligations taking him out of London. It’s not like his foot-in-mouth disease was going to get better when they were together less. It just meant that if he said something hurtful from a thousand miles away, he couldn’t fix it with sex.

And that jealousy? Not okay. How _dare_ he make her feel like she’d done something wrong? That wasn’t going to get better with distance, either. When he’s out of town, what if she started a hobby, was he just going to assume she was fucking every guy there while he was away? Sure, Jesse had been flirting with her. And she felt a little naïve for not noticing. But she wasn’t flirting with him, and that was what Henry had accused her of, why he’d gotten so mad. Didn’t he trust her?

But…but. The rest of the time he was _so_ good to her. He was respectful, he was sweet, he was generous. The sex…it was like nothing she’d ever experienced. Men of his size try to get away with being lazy in bed, and she kept expecting to get out of the honeymoon phase and have him settle into being less of a giver, but nope. Not yet, anyway. And he really did seem to love her, or at least he thought he did. She believed him when he said it. She had even started to think that this could be love, too.

She finished her beer, toweled off, and got dressed. She hadn’t eaten before working out, so she was starving now, and wanted to keep busy. She went out to get a bite and run some errands. If she had things to do, she couldn’t just sit and dwell and cry. She also needed some new toiletries, some warmer leggings, and just wanted to spend some time looking at kitchen things, anything to distract her. To keep her from having to make any decisions about Henry.

After spending the afternoon out, she returned home close to dinner time, to find Henry waiting. He had shaved off his stubble, he was wearing a suit under his most professional coat, looking like the picture of respectability. He had a briefcase, of all things, and another bag next to him. 

She sighed, “Henry…”

“I have prepared a presentation,” he semi-blurted out.

Well, _that_ wasn’t what she expected him to say. “I’m sorry, what?”

“If you will allow me inside, I have a presentation. For you. Please,” he was trying to hold his head high and keep the professional thing going, but he was having a hard time balancing that with wanting to avoid her rejection, and a puppy-like desire to please her.

“I don’t want to do this on the street. Fine.” She buzzed them in, keeping her distance from him. She wanted to be as objective as possible, and she couldn’t let him get under her skin. She had to listen with her brain. They rode up the elevator in silence, Henry shifting from foot-to-foot. He looked like he was nervous about a job interview, she tried not to smile at his discomfort. She let him into the flat, and he bustled her off to put her things away while he “set up”.

She sat on her bed, resisting the urge to peek over the rail, see what he was doing. Trying to convince herself to be jaded about whatever stunt he was pulling. Even if he looked really good in that suit.

“Alright, you may enter!” he called up to her. When she came down, he had re-arranged a few things. There was a stack of books on her counter, his laptop, and he had moved one of her comfy chairs for a better view. “Please, sit,” he offered the chair, and she did as asked.

He tapped a button on the laptop, turning the screen to her. A presentation started on the screen, and she read “How I’m Going To Make This Better, by Henry Cavill”. She pursed her lips to stop from smiling, and raised an eyebrow at him, nodding as a signal to continue.

“This morning, I made a series of terrible mistakes. With this presentation I intend to both prove my understanding of my poor behavior, its underlying causes, and my plan for addressing it so it never, ever happens again. I will accept questions at the end of the presentation.”

He was taking it very seriously, and she couldn’t help but be impressed. He seemed to have heard her, which was the most important part. He had done his research. The books, she could see, were self-help books around communication. And his plan addressed all the concerns she had voiced. He recognized the hardest part for him was going to be thinking before he spoke, and he planned to talk to a therapist about techniques to slow himself down, he had already emailed a potential person to talk to. He also asked that if he started to act like a boneheaded idiot, they have a code word that she could say so he would stop and check himself. “It won’t stop me from blurting every idiotic thing that crosses my mind, but I hope it will help me recognize bad patterns,” he explained.

He did it. She hadn’t known what she needed from him, but, hilariously, this was it. A slideshow from a movie star. But, somehow, it was exactly right. Maybe people don’t change, at their core, but he wasn’t her ex. He actually wanted to work on things. Fix things that were broken. Learn how to improve the things that were within his power, or at least to pre-emptive damage control for things that were beyond his influence.

He concluded his presentation, and opened it up to his audience of one for questions. She was somewhat tempted to torture him a bit longer, but he looked a bit like a dog preparing to be hit. “That was a very well-thought-out presentation, Henry.”

He looked a little bashful, “I caught one of your presentations last week when you were working at home, and you were good at it, so I took some inspiration. You’re just…you’re so _smart_ , and logical. I didn’t think just emotions would be enough.”

“Good strategy,” she acknowledged. She had already basically forgiven him, but she couldn’t let him think it was that easy, so she continued, “Okay, questions: You said you’re starting therapy, what’s the plan when you travel?”

“I found a therapist who is fine with remote sessions. And I’m looking into therapy apps, just in case.”

“Alright, and what if these books are boring?” She knew he liked to read, but these weren’t exactly fantasy novels.

“I always did my reading in school, even the boring stuff; I will finish them anyway,” he promised.

Now to the weightier question: “Is jealousy an issue in general? Have you been jealous with previous girlfriends?”

“Not really. Once, but…it was with good reason. But never before have I been an idiot simply because a girlfriend took a fitness class. Or just been flirted with.”

“And you know that I am a grown woman, not an object? I’m not territory to be marked. I have free will. And if someone flirts with me, I will turn them down, and you need to trust that.”

“I know, and I do trust you. I love you.”

“I know.”

She was still seated, and he knelt next to her. “Any other questions?”

“Where’s Kal?”

“He’s down in the car, he was going to be my Plan B, in case the presentation didn’t work I thought puppy cuddles might.”

She sighed, “Bring him up. You don’t need a Plan B, you are forgiven.”

He kissed her, relieved. She wrapped his tie around her hand, “The suit’s a nice touch!”

“I wanted to be taken seriously,” he said.

“So serious!” she teased, furrowing her brows.

“Kal can wait in the car for a few more minutes…” he suggested, pressing her back into her seat.

“You worried about your dog seeing you naked? Because I’m pretty sure Kal’s seen your ass before.”

“I just don’t want him nosing in and getting all your attention.”

“Didn’t we just talk about jealousy?” she squinted at him.

“Well, I will have to bring it up with my new therapist. In the meantime…” he kissed down her neck, moving his hands up her thighs.

“Well, he does have a very thick coat, I’m sure he’ll survive a little longer in the cold.” She reached for his tie to loosen it, but he took her hand, entwining fingers.

“I thought you liked the suit?” he asked

“It’s very fetching, I would hate to ruin it.”

“I have an excellent dry cleaner. Gets stains out of anything,” he insisted, scooting her towards the edge of her seat.

“Upholstered chairs?”

“Mmhmmm,” he rumbled into her neck, moving a hand under her shirt.

“Are you going to take any of the suit off?”

“Let’s focus on _your_ clothing for a moment,” he suggested, hands moving to her jeans. He pulled them down her thighs, but left them at her knees, tangling her, holding her legs against his chest.

“Hey, I…” her breath cut off in a gasp as she felt his fingers inside her. “Not fair!” she managed.

“Oh, I think it’s very fair, love.” He curled and uncurled his fingers, arousal only being battled by relief that he got to see her like this again. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her fingers gripping the armrests, teeth biting into her bottom lip. “There she is, there’s my girl,” he encouraged her, thumb sliding up her slit.

He watched her climb towards the peak, but just as she almost reached the top, he withdrew his fingers. She whimpered a little, deprived, not quite in enough control of her senses to vocalize an objection, but before she could gather herself, he had slipped a condom on and was inside her. Her orgasm ripped through her, the wet grip of her driving him harder and faster. But she didn’t stop, he watched and felt as wave after wave of orgasm rolled through her. He started to wonder how long she could go without breathing when his own climax hit, wiping clear his mental slate.


	22. Surreal Reality

With December came the start of the press junket for The Witcher. For the first week, Henry had to go to LA and film some interviews and do an early screening. It wasn’t a long trip, but Henry was stressed about it. All of the interviews were never terribly fun, and he was extra focused on not saying anything stupid in these interviews. It wasn’t like Y/N was going to be analyzing every second of every video, he wasn’t worried about that. He had just been working so hard on avoiding putting his foot in his mouth, and this was going to be the first real test.

It was easier than he thought it would be to not say dumb things with Y/N. Talking it through with his therapist, it was times that brought out stress reactions that made his mouth move faster than his brain. So their second date was exciting but a little stressful, and when he was getting his worked up to practice martial arts, and interviews: each of these times there was extra adrenaline surging through him, and it was like his mouth decided to stay & fight while his brain chose the flight option.

And after he’d worked out a plan with Y/N, things had been…rather easy. They were settling into routines, and spending more time with each other than not. Sure, they both had work to do. But when they weren’t working, it was very much the honeymoon phase, and they wanted to spend every moment they could together. And since it wasn’t stressful, he wasn’t putting his foot in it.

But Y/N was starting to get stressed. And not just because of the time away. She had agreed to go with him to the London premiere of The Witcher, as well as to visit his family after Christmas, and he was worried she was regretting that choice. Or maybe regretting him? He didn’t know how to broach the subject.

They had a video chat while he was in LA. It wasn’t easy to find time with his interview schedule, but he wanted to make the effort.

“Hello, love!” he cheerfully said to the screen as soon as her face appeared.

“Hey babe, how’s LA?”

“It’s good! Sunny, and they’re keeping me busy. I’m exhausted though, I’d much rather be home with you.”

“That’s sweet. I mean, you’ve only been gone for, what, 36 hours? But it’s still sweet.”

“Well, I still miss you. How are things with you, what have you been up to? Tell me everything.”

“Work, mostly. And I had a fitting with your stylist.”

“Oh excellent! I’m so excited to see your dress, she hasn’t told me anything about it!”

“It’s nice,” she blandly responded.

“Just nice? Is there something wrong with the dress? You can wear something different, you don’t need to work with my stylist at all, I just thought it might make things easier for you.”

“It’s not that, Henry. The dress is fine.”

“’Fine’ doesn’t seem good enough. Let’s find you something perfect. It doesn’t matter if it coordinates with my outfit, I can find something else!”

“It’s not the dress! I just…this is kind of overwhelming, Henry. This isn’t my scene, I don’t know how premieres work. And the tabloids, and just being public…”

“We’ve already crossed the tabloid line, it wasn’t so bad.”

“Well, that was because no one knew who I was, or what I was to you. They didn’t even get a good shot of my face, they just called me a ‘mystery woman’ and moved on before anyone figured out who I was. But this will be different, won’t it?”

“Yes, it will,” he conceded. “It doesn’t need to be all bad, though. We can control the narrative here.”

“That’s publicist-speak. But whatever you say, my life isn’t going to be the same after this. If I’m applying for a job, my potential employers won’t find my LinkedIn profile, they’ll find gossip about you. People will connect with me on social media looking to get info about you. This is the death of normalcy for me. Even if we break up, I can’t unring this bell.”

“Do you not want to go?”

“No, I do. And even if I skipped this, it would be something else. It’s just…scary, is all.”

“I hate that I can’t be there with you right now.”

“You’ll be back in a couple days.”

“Yes, but right now you’re hurting, and I want to wrap my arms around you and tell you it will all be fine and we’ll get through this and I want to make it better for you.”

“I wish you were here, too. And I think you’ll like the dress a lot.”

“I know I’ll love it. You’ll be in it.”

“You’re sweet.”

“And, Y/N? Thank you for putting up with all of this. I promise I will do my best to make it as painless as possible. And I know it changes a lot for you, but…it won’t change who you are. Your future employers may find out who you’re dating, but they’ll hire you because you’re great at your job. And if people try to find you on social media because of me, they may be disappointed that they aren’t getting the dirt, but they’ll see how wonderful you are, so they’ll gain something, too. I’m lucky to have you in my life, and this just means the world gets to see how lucky I am. But thank you for putting up with the unfun parts. I hope to make it up to you, so you can feel lucky to have me.”

“You already do, babe, I’m _very_ lucky.”

As predicted, the gossip rags went wild after the premiere. Word got out who the mystery woman was, and Y/N saw an influx of social media attention. She’d done her best to lock things down and hide who she was, so other than a still-public Twitter account she rarely used, and a Facebook profile picture, there wasn’t a lot to find out about her. She had told the rest of her friends and family in advance of the premiere, and, as expected, she had been met with a mix of people who thought it was a funny joke, people who were mad at her for not saying something, and people who suddenly wanted to be her best friend. It was easy to turn down all the new friend requests, but it was a little disheartening. A couple of her friends were approached by media people, trying to get the dirt on her, but there wasn’t much that was scandalous to say about her, so the press moved on to juicier stories.

But Y/N didn’t really get to move on. Almost immediately after the London premiere, Henry had to go to the Polish premiere, and she had decided not to go with him. She had thought it would be easier that way, but now was when she really started to miss him. He couldn’t be there to cheer her up when someone said something unkind about her in an article, or called her fat on twitter, or his multitude of fans who immediately decided she wasn’t good enough for him, that she was using him for his money, etc. She was trying not to let it get to her, but without him there to distract her, it was too easy to dwell. And she badly wished he could be there. At least she got to watch Kal, and the furry bear was an enormous comfort, if she couldn’t have Henry. Of course, even when Henry got back, he was only going to be back in London for a couple of days before he turned around to go to Jersey to be with his family for Christmas, so she was going to spend the holiday being a Grinch.

But, when she knew he had to be getting ready to leave the hotel to head to the premiere, she got a notification on Instagram. He had tagged her in a post, and when she looked at the post, she cried reading it. “Hello from Warsaw! I’m about to head to the next premiere for The Witcher, but I wanted to address something. I attended the world premiere with my girlfriend, Y/N. And I’ve seen the range of what people have had to say about her, and I wanted to respond: if any of my fans and followers feel the need to denigrate her, they can fuck off. She is the best thing that ever happened to me, she is an endless source of joy, laughter, and light in my life. She is intelligent, funny, and just the most beautiful and genuine person you could hope to meet. And anyone who thinks she shouldn’t be in my life must not support me very much either.”

When he came back from Warsaw, he went directly to her flat. She had given him a copy of the key, so he let himself in, dropped his stuff at the door and went to find her. His flight had gotten in late, much later than it was supposed to, and his phone had run out of batteries, so he hadn’t been able to reach her. He didn’t see her when he got in, and he worried for a moment. He considered calling out to her, but he heard some music drifting down from the loft.

He bounded up the stairs two at a time, and his heart leapt when he reached the top. There was his love, lying in bed, in the sexy silk robe he liked so much, soft music, low lighting…dead asleep, with a book in hand and his dog in her arms instead of him. She must’ve tried to stay awake for him and failed. Kal had the decency to wake up and boof at him, so he encouraged the dog to come over and greet him, and get out of his spot in the bed. Kal obliged, but clearly begrudgingly, and Henry noticed that she had put a bowtie on Kal’s collar for the greeting. Henry plugged his phone into the bedside table, stripped down, and tried to ease himself into bed without waking her. Of course, he also wanted to cuddle with her, which proved to be his downfall. He took the book from her hand with no problem, but felt her stir when he tried to take Kal’s place as the little spoon. He turned towards her in time to see her lashes flutter open.

“Oh! Henry, you’re home! I’m sorry, I tried to stay awake…”

“Don’t worry, love! I’m just glad to be here with you,” he gently kissed her forehead, and she yawned and wiggled her nose.

“Not quite the sexy welcome home I was going for. I saw your flight was late, I tried texting you…”

“Phone died. Thank you for trying.”

She touched his face, like she needed confirmation she wasn’t dreaming. “I really missed you, Henry. I know you weren’t gone long, I know it’s silly. I just…”

“I missed you, too. I know this was the worst time for me to be gone, I’m so sorry I couldn’t be with you during the fallout after the first premiere.”

She kissed his eager, beautiful face. “I love you, Henry.”

“You…really? You mean it?”

“Yes. I love you. And I’m sorry I’ve been so difficult about it. Thank you for being patient.”

Henry was stunned, “What? I lost track of everything after you said you love me. You _love_ me? You love _me_!”

She kissed him again, “You’re ridiculous. Yes, I love you. I think I have for a while now, everything was just so scary, and…well, the point is that I love you. And I’m sorry you had to wait to hear it.”

He wanted to get up and shout, dance, anything. He had all these newfound energy reserves that he didn’t quite know what to do with. So he scooped her up and held her, wrapped tightly in his arms. “I love you! I love you so much, Y/N, I can hardly stand it sometimes. And now you love me, and you’re apologizing? I just…I love you, even if you are _completely_ mad.”

“Well I wanted to tell you in a sexy way, but…whatever, the point is, I love you. And I hate it when you leave. And I missed you terribly. And the whole time you were gone, everything I read about how I was fat, or I didn’t deserve you, or whatever else those assholes had to say about me, I just…I knew it would be okay. Because of you. And when I saw your post on Instagram, it was just…perfect. And even with everything else going on, I felt _so_ lucky to get to be with you.”

It occurred to him that he ought to let her breathe, that crushing a woman to death after she declared her love was maybe not the best idea. He rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. She lay her head on his chest, looking up at him, reaching up a hand and running it over the planes of his face.

“I’m trying to remember when I’ve ever been so happy as I am right now,” he beamed, stroking her hair. “I don’t know if this is pushing my luck, but…would you be interested in coming to my family’s home sooner? I know you didn’t want to come for Christmas, but this seems like it might change things.”

She thought about it for a long moment. “I’m not sure, Henry. I love you, and I do want to meet your family. I’m just terrified that I’m going to let you down. That they won’t like me, that I’ll offend them, that it’ll go poorly. And I don’t want to ruin anyone’s Christmas, I would feel so terrible if I put a pall on the holiday for anyone in your family. At least if I come after Christmas, I can’t ruin anyone’s holiday.”

“I wish I understood why you think you would ruin the holiday for anyone. I love you, and you love me, and my family will love you because of it. My brothers can be a lot to handle, I will certainly grant you that, but I can’t even imagine how you would ruin their holiday. My nephews will be spoiled beyond belief, nothing will ruin their holiday. My parents will love you, they’ve been wonderful for any other girl my brothers or I have brought home to them. As long as you don’t dump me on Christmas Eve, you won’t ruin anything for anyone. Why does this scare you so much?”

“My ex-mother-in-law…was a real peach. She had two boys, she’d clearly always wanted a daughter, and by the time I came on the scene, she’d basically spent the previous couple of decades deciding what she wanted in a daughter-in-law, and I wasn’t it. She was never happy with me. I tried to be what she wanted, but ultimately, I was my own person, and that was unacceptable. She wanted someone docile, who would defer to her opinion on everything, and, well…”

He couldn’t help but smile a little, even the thought of someone wanting her to be docile was laughable. “That was never going to happen.”

“No, not at all. And she was just a narcissist, so she did her best to punish me for anytime I stepped out of line. And she was the queen of the family, so if she was mad at me, everyone was. It made past holidays always…a bit fraught.”

“Well no wonder you don’t want to risk it! Goodness! Well, my mother isn’t like that at all. I realize you have no particular reason to trust me on this, and that I may be a bit biased. But from what I’ve seen with my sisters-in-law, she’s just glad to have extra people to keep her boys in line.”

“Well…I don’t want to intrude so late in the game. It makes me seem terribly rude.”

“Well, I would be the terribly rude one, making the request. But I will call my mother first thing tomorrow. Although she’s been asking if you were sure you didn’t want to come early, she was worried about you spending the holiday by yourself, so I am certain she will be thrilled if you came.”

“Okay, pending approval from your mother: I’m in. Oh, god, what do I wear? I need to know all the plans and traditions, what should I be prepared for? I don’t have time to shop!”

“I will help you pack!”

“That sounds like a recipe for a suitcase full of panties and condoms, and like _one_ sexy dress.”

“Not true! I had at least _two_ sexy dresses in mind!”

“Should _I_ talk to your mother? You seem to be an untrustworthy source. Oh, and I bought presents for your family, but should I bring anything else? Prepare a dish or anything?”

I very much doubt you will need to bring anything. But you can talk to my mother if it will make you feel better. But that’s for tomorrow morning.”

“Oh? And what’s for tonight? A good night’s sleep?”

“I had some other ideas first…” he slid her robe off her shoulder.


	23. Redundancy

The holidays came and went, and Henry’s family was nothing but lovely, as he’d promised. She got along well with his brothers after a night of whisky-induced bonding. She got on his mother’s good side by helping in the kitchen and forcing the men to do more than their usual share of tidying up. And his nephews were no real trouble, they were excited to have a new source of gifts and attention around.

After ringing in the new year, it was back to life. Y/N had to go back to work, and Henry had to get “back in shape.” It felt ridiculous to phrase it that way, as she certainly hadn’t seen him in anything other than amazing condition. But he hadn’t been training very hard since they’d met, as he wasn’t filming. And he was going to have to get back into “bathtub shape” before they started filming season 2. Y/N hated that he had to put his body through all that. She did her best to be supportive, knowing that it was his career, it was important to him. She just worried about him. But before too long, even that worry became routine.

When February rolled around, things started to get hard. Henry was going to start filming soon, which wasn’t bad in and of itself. But it did mean change was coming. She’d only been with him “off-season” so she hadn’t had to deal with all-day filming sessions, with training on top of it. And even with some of the filming done in a studio in London, inevitably he’d have to leave for filming on-location. And he was going to be gone for months, and the days would be so long it would be hard to find time to talk. There wasn’t really anything to be done about it, and they both knew it. If they were going to last, this was going to be a hurdle they would regularly have to overcome.

One February morning, Henry was out in the country, doing some training with the horses. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and keep buzzing. He pulled it out, he didn’t normally like to be on his phone while he was riding, but it seemed like something important was happening. It was Y/N. She never called out of the blue, especially not at work, so he answered immediately, “Hey love, what’s…”

“I’m fucked, Henry. I was just laid off. Made redundant, whatever you call it here.”

“Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry! What can I do?”

“I don’t…I don’t know. Oh, Henry, I…” his heart broke for her as he heard her dissolve into tears over the phone.

“I’m coming to you, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Are you at home?”

“Crying on the sidewalk…going home,” she managed between sobs.

“I’ll stay on the phone while I ride back. Do you want to talk? Should I try to distract you?”

“Distract,” she sniffled.

He told her any number of things that crossed his mind. How his run had gone, how the horses were doing, pontificating on braiding of manes, anything he could think of. Her sobs quickly turned into little hollow sniffles, and he kept going, changing subjects to Kal, as he knew how much she loved his dog.

When he made it back to the barn, he couldn’t continue the call. She was at her flat already, and he instructed her to change into her comfies and put on a movie and he would be there long before the movie would be over. He left the horse in the care of one of the barn staff, and got Kal into his car and drove off as fast as he safely could.

An hour later, he was bustling into her flat, with an armload of things to help. Her favorite junk foods, mostly. She was curled up in a tiny ball on the couch when he found her, and he placed the things down on the coffee table before bundling her up in his arms. Kal had already hopped onto the couch, and rested his chin on her. Henry mumbled her name and other words of comfort and condolences.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and gave him a squeeze before sitting back. He wiped at her tears, and had to hold back his own. It was heartbreaking to see her so upset, infuriating that someone had so callously upset her, and frustrating because there wasn’t anything he could do to make it better.

“I’m so sorry, love. I wish I could make it better. I know you’ll get a new job in no time, but for now, this must be so painful for you.”

“I just…things had been going so well! My performance review was excellent, I thought I was due for fucking _promotion_! But my whole team was eliminated.”

“It could never have been about you. Just a business decision made by idiots. Recruiters will be pounding down your door in no time.”

“I don’t know, Henry. I haven’t been here very long, I don’t have a professional network in London yet.”

“Well you can take your time with it! Hey, you could even come with me while I film! It’ll be fun! If it’s a money thing…”

“Henry, you don’t get it. I’m on a visa. It’s not a money thing, it’s that if I don’t find a new job who would sponsor my visa in 90 days, I have to go back to America.”

“What? No, that can’t be…”

“Trust me. That was part of the speech I got from HR after they told us we were being let go. 90 days.”

“We’ll find a lawyer. And I’ll hire you…I don’t know, who else can help with this? We’ll find you the best, I’ll spare no expense. You’re not going anywhere.”

“I can’t let you do that, Henry. I don’t think an attorney will help. And I’m not like a big business hotshot, or an actor. It doesn’t work like that, I can’t just hire an agent.”

He was quiet for a moment, thoughts racing, trying to find anything to help her not to hurt. “We could…we could get married?” he offered quietly.

“Oh, Henry, no. Don’t say that.”

“Why not, Y/N? I love you, you love me. It might not be the timeline either of us would have chosen, but…”

“Henry, no! Just…no. I don’t know if that would even work. And we haven’t even talked about…all that,” she slid off his lap, as if distance would make the enormity of the situation easier.

“Well, let’s talk about it, then.”

“ _Now_?”

“Y/N, I love you. I want you to be part of my life, and I want to be part of yours. We practically live together, and I was hoping sometime soon we _could_ live together, full-time. And I…I want to get married. Just because it’s soon…”

“Henry, listen to your own words! ‘Sometime’? ‘Just because it’s soon’? Babe, that’s because it is _too_ soon. It’s been, what, 4 months? And it hasn’t even been a year since my divorce.”

“So what, Y/N? If it’s what we want to do anyway, why wait? If it could make things better for you now, why not?”

“It wouldn’t make things easier, it would just make things _rushed_. We haven’t really had any trials, we’re still in the honeymoon phase. I haven’t had to deal with you being off filming somewhere. We haven’t even been on a vacation and dealt with the stress of a delayed flight, we’ve been living in a bubble.”

“But we can get through those things!”

“What if we can’t? No, Henry, I can’t put that kind of pressure on our relationship. I can’t be responsible for that. I’ll figure this out, you’ll continue to be my loving boyfriend. I’ll find a new job, I’ll find something. The package I got was enough that I can still survive for those three months, and I’ve got some savings in case…well, just in case.”

“Is that what this is about, the money? I’m not worried about it, I can support you. You never have to work, if you don’t want to.”

“And then what, Henry? I just abandon my career, follow you around? I’m not Kal. I worked hard to get where I am. This isn’t about money at all, I know you’re rich. I get it. I don’t want to be financially supported like that. If we get married, it would be with a prenup, and I would want to keep working.”

“But…you wouldn’t need to. I know you’ve worked very hard to get where you are. And you wouldn’t have to follow me around. But what about when we have kids, would you keep working?”

She looked a little baffled, “Of course I would.”

“You wouldn’t want to stay home, raise them? What about when I’m off filming, what would we do?”

“ _This_ is why we can’t get married yet, because we haven’t thought it fully through, and we haven’t talked about stuff like this. I always wanted kids, but I had no intention of leaving my career to do so. And as far as when you’re filming…I don’t know. That seems more of a question about how having kids would impact _your_ career than how it would impact _mine_.”

“Well…but, couldn’t you and the kids come with me when I film?”

“I don’t know how it works for other actors. But if you go off to film on location for months, that doesn’t really seem fair to expect your family to uproot themselves for months at a time. What about when these hypothetical kids are school-aged? Are you going to pull them out of school to bounce around while you spend all day filming? That doesn’t seem healthy. Or fair to me, you’ve already said what your schedule is like when you’re filming, even if we came with you, we’d never see you.”

“But plenty of other actors have kids, they figure this out…”

“And I’m not saying we couldn’t! And we don’t need to figure it out right now! It’s just a lot to think about, and a lot of pressure to put on our relationship right now.” She cradled his face in her hands, “Babe, I love you. That hasn’t changed. But we can’t just get married right now as a quick fix to a temporary problem. We’ll come out of this stronger. And we’ll have plenty of time to discuss all of the big issues. And plenty of things will change! My career could change, yours could change, what we _want_ could change. I love you. We’ll figure it out.”

He looked worried still, and she smoothed his furrowed brow with her thumb. He pursed his lips a little before asking, “Are you sure? It’s just…that was some big stuff we’re talking about.”

“It is. But it’s big stuff we need to at least talk about before we get married. Henry, I love that you want to support me through this any way you can. It’s amazing. And, hey, maybe I’ll find a job quickly, and I can put off a start date, maybe we could even go on a little weekend away together. And we can start having those big talks. And we’ll see how it feels to be apart while you’re filming. You’ll see.”

He gave her a little sad smile, “They never mentioned in the manual how difficult it could be to date a brilliant woman. You’re too smart.”

She laughed at that, “Having a supportive, doting boyfriend isn’t as easy as it looks, either.” And she kissed him, before assuring him, “We’ve got this, babe. Now, am I on my own with this bounty of snacks, or are you having a cheat day?”

“I can help, as is my duty as a supportive, doting boyfriend.”

They dug in, stuffing themselves thoroughly with sugar and salt. When they were full, he lay with his head in her lap, so she could play with his hair. “So,” she asked, “how many kids do you want? One of your brothers said over Christmas that you wanted a whole platoon, but that seems like a bit much.”

“What a twat, which one said that?”

She raised her hands to distance herself from the potential quarrel, “I’m not going to out him, I’m not getting in the middle of a brother-fight!”

“Well…I came from a big family. I always kind of assumed that’s what I would have.”

“Is that still what you want?”

“I’m not sure. I still like the idea of having a lot of kids. But I’m not entirely sure how practical it would be.”

“You’d have to go back to dating 19-year-olds, you perv.”

“Hey now, I said I didn’t think it would be practical! How many kids do you want?”

“I don’t know, I always wanted 2. But that had kind of been with the assumption I’d start trying when I was 30, and that ship has sailed. Even if I got pregnant tonight, and I don’t plan on it, it would be tough to fit 2 kids in before 40. And while I’m not saying I couldn’t have a kid in my 40s, I don’t know that I should count on being able to. But I think that’s still what I’d aim for, I’d feel bad if an only child got stuck taking care of me when I’m old, I plan on being absolutely miserable to be around.”

“That seems like good information to have. Did you have a variety of miserable in mind, or are you leaving that to the fates?”

“I was thinking, like, neighborhood kids are suspicious I’m a witch, and my long-suffering children can’t get me to listen about anything.”

“What about a long-suffering husband?”

“Assuming he doesn’t get sick of me and bail? Well, he’d benefit from my magics, obviously. And he’d have to get used to all of the animals around the house.”

“Sounds like a fairytale ending to me!” he leaned over to kiss his princess. Or witch-queen, whatever she was.

When he sat back, she smiled back at him, “And look at us, being mature adults, having big conversations! Go team!”

“Speaking of teams and big conversations, there’s another important thing we need to discuss.”

Her eyebrows raised expectantly, “Oh? What’s that?”

Henry gathered himself, and said very seriously, “Why can’t you support England in rugby?”

“Because I will die as I lived: being utterly contrarian and stubborn every step of the way. And I love Scotland, I feel a spiritual connection.”

“You are the _most_ frustrating woman I’ve ever met!”

She wrinkled her nose skeptically, “I kinda think that’s why you love me…”

“But England is going to _crush_ Scotland!”

She waved the thought off, “That’s immaterial.”

“That’s… _what_?” he was absolutely slack jawed with incredulity. “That’s not how sports work!”

“That’s _exactly_ how sports work! You would love England whether they were destined to win or destined to be the worst team. You chose an American football team because of where Superman grew up, that’s no more valid than me choosing a rugby team specifically to antagonize my boyfriend.”

He reared up, grabbed her by the hips and yanked her, pulling her beneath him on the couch and pinning her there, “What do I have to do to convince you to support England?”

“Gosh, I don’t know what it would take. You should probably start trying, eliminate a few options. Maybe something will work…”

She would never have guessed that, two hours after being laid off, she’d be giggling about rugby as Henry tickled her and kissed her neck. And yet…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I've kind of written myself up to the point where they're just about up to present-day...and current events being what they are, I have no idea where I want to go with this! I'll have to think about this while social distancing.


	24. A Little Break

It didn’t take Y/N long to start getting job offers, and she’d received even more offers to interview. Henry was proud of her, and relieved that her worries were for naught. Of course, _he_ knew she was brilliant, and thought any company would be lucky to have her. But he also didn’t work in tech, and didn’t know anything about it, so didn’t have much to go on other than what Y/N told him. She let a couple offers come in and started negotiating, and the one she accepted agreed to have her start late. Henry wanted to surprise her so he managed to find a week where he could get away from filming to take her for a surprise trip. He even tried to convince her to let him pack for her, but she accepted a compromise: he would pack and shop for her, and 24 hours before the flight, she would get to approve what he chose. But ultimately, he was proud: he’d left out a few things, and guessed a little wrong on a couple of others, but overall he did well. It did give away some of the surprise, as there was no hiding that this was a beach vacation.

When they arrived, even being tired from the long flight, Y/N was in awe. She loved to travel, and had stayed in all manner of places, but she’d never thought a luxurious overwater bungalow in the Maldives would be on her list. It was going to be an amazing week!

“Henry! I’ve never…this is…”

“Well, you deserve the best! I wanted you to have the most relaxing week possible. Do you like it?”

She was slack-jawed, “I love it! I can hardly believe it’s real! I…just…I’m speechless!”

He was very tempted to make a “first time for everything” joke but didn’t want to risk ruining the moment. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her, and they looked out on the water. “This week is for you to get as relaxed as possible. And you won’t even have to have me crowding you, I have to keep up with some training. But I have some spa treatments booked for you, and you can just read, relax, swim, whatever you want to do.”

She turned in his arms, “Henry, you are the best. This is an absolute dream come true!” She pulled him in for a kiss. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. And I intend to spend every available moment of this trip making you happy.”

“Well…were there any plans for tonight?”

“No reservations or appointments, but I had some ideas…”

“Was one of them a shower? Because I’m gross!”

“Mmm, I like you just the way you are…”

“You can join me,” she offered.

“When you put it that way!” he tossed her over his shoulder and made his way to the bathroom with her squealing. He got the water running before putting her down and making quick work of their clothes.

When they were naked, he backed her into the shower. With multiple shower heads, no one had to be cold for long. They both stood in the streams for a moment, getting thoroughly soaked. She grabbed the body wash first, spreading it over the expanse of his chest. He just looked down at her, excited for what she had in store for him. She diligently washed his torso, every muscle-bound inch. She got down on her knees, even on the hard tile, and soaped up his legs. He started getting a little twitchy from her teasing, he knew it would be worth it, but that didn’t make it any easier to wait. She got closer, and closer…finally, she touched him where he craved. Her soapy hands slid over his balls, his shaft, getting him slippery. She stroked him for a while, watching him looming over her, eyes closed, lost in the sensation. She had been sitting back on her heels, to spare her knees a bit, but then she rose up. He felt her remove her hands from him, and looked down to see what mischief she was up to now. She was pouring body wash on her gorgeous tits, and moving to slide his shaft between them. He groaned. He couldn’t help but thrust his hips to her. Sliding between her breasts, slick with soap…dream come true. His pace started picking up before he knew what he was doing, but then she put a hand on him. She held his hips and moved him into the spray of the water, rinsing him off, and when all the suds ran off him, she pulled him back and took him into her mouth. She licked him, swirled her tongue, sucked him in again. Soon, he grunted “Love, I’m gonna…”

She released his head just long enough to say, “Come for me.” And he obliged.

She rinsed herself off and tried to give him a moment to recover, but he was pulling her up and kissing her before she could even get her balance. He pressed her into the wall with his whole body. His hands roved over her wet body. She was already moaning when he grabbed the spray nozzle. He teased her with it, spraying her neck, her nipples, trailing it down her body until it reached her mound. She gasped, clutching at him. “Fuck, Henry…”

“D’you like that, love? I want to see you come so many times this week…starting now.” He slid his fingers inside her, curling them as the water streamed over her. She held his neck, his arm, pressing herself into him, whimpers turning into moans, turning into a strangled cry when she curled herself around him as she came.

She leaned into his chest, sated, while he slowly washed her. Massaging shampoo slowly into her scalp, rinsing it out. Moving her limbs as he lathered up her body, still supporting her. She started humming, soft and low. He didn’t want to interrupt her, so when he was finished washing her, he just turned the water off and reached for a towel. He patted her dry, gently, and then ran the towel over his own body, before picking her up and carrying her to the bed. She switched from humming to singing, quietly.

When he placed her in the bed and jumped in facing her, she sang a couple more lines, caressing his cheek, then went quiet.

Realizing the rarity of the moment, he asked “How come you never sing?”

“I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to bother people with it.”

He blinked in surprise, “But your voice…it’s beautiful! I could listen to you sing all day, and never be bothered!”

“You’re just being sweet. I mean, I don’t deny I have a good voice, but me singing constantly would be annoying. And that’s not counting what the neighbors would think!”

“Well any neighbor who can’t appreciate your talents is a philistine. But, while we’re here…you know we don’t really have neighbors. No shared walls, certainly. I would love it if you sang.”

“What about you? Don’t you sing? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you try, not really anyway.”

“Well, I’m nowhere near as talented as you are.”

“I doubt that very much! Your speaking voice is lovely, and with a big barrel chest like yours, I imagine you can get a beautiful, resonant sound out of you!”

“Are you going to be my voice teacher?”

“How about you just promise to sing with me this week, at least once in a while, and if you want, I can give you tips.”

“This sounds like an unfair deal.”

“It’s perfectly fair. You don’t have to be good. I just want to hear you try. I promise I won’t go running the other way.”

“Well, at least if you decide to run, you can always just jump into the water here, it’s the perfect excuse when you need to escape.”

“Well, if we’re confessing things we aren’t good at…I can’t actually swim.”

He almost recoiled in shock, not because he was appalled at her, more because he would have approached the vacation differently had he known, “Y/N! We’re staying in an over-water bungalow with a private pool, and you can’t _swim_? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“In my defense, the vacation was a surprise! I mean…I can doggie paddle to save my life! I just can’t…you know, do laps or anything.”

“Did you not take lessons as a child?”

“Oh, I did. But I was always just too scared of drowning, and too stubborn. So…I never really got the hang of it.”

“Will you even go in the water?”

“Yes, I have no problem when I can touch the bottom. And if I have a life jacket, or something to hold on to, I’m okay when it’s deep.”

“Alright, then it’s settled: you can teach me how to sing, and I will teach you how to swim. Or, at least, to feel more comfortable in the water. Sound fair?”

“It doesn’t really sound fair…but I’m in anyway!”


	25. Love in the Time of COVID

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's pretty close to present-day, and I felt remiss if I skipped over current events. I'm not lingering on timelines or specifics, especially as I don't live in London and...frankly that sounded depressing as shit to research. Feel free to skip this chapter if you are overwhelmed right now, but if you want to imagine finding comfort with Henry...here you go! And I hope all of you get the support you need in these times! Stay home and be good to each other (from 6 feet away)!

Y/N had never felt more relaxed in her life. Other than an initial bit of terror during the first swimming lessons, she spent most of her time just reading, which was perfection. When Henry got back from the gym, she helped him in the shower, and that usually lead to the bed. Or the couch. Or…the floor. Really, the location wasn’t the important part. It wasn’t for a lack of other things to do, it was just that their little bubble was a perfect private paradise, and they didn’t feel the need to leave it.

When they were most of the way through of their trip, they were cuddled up, watching a movie. Y/N had picked up her phone, as she had been mostly unplugged for this trip, she figured she should at least make sure she wasn’t missing any important emails about the new job, or any big news on social media.

“Babe, have you been checking the news?”

“No, have you?”

“No, but…this coronavirus thing is getting worse.”

“What do you mean?”

“It looks like it’s getting a lot worse. My friends in the States are facing lockdowns, and it’s headed that way in the UK as well. There aren’t official orders yet, but…it’s bad.”

Henry sat upright, “What…what should we do? Should we go home early?”

“I don’t know, I think we should at least contact people, get a better sense of what’s going on. They might have been trying to get in touch with you about the shooting schedule, I don’t know if they could continue it.”

Over the long flight, they took advantage of the time and wifi to get a better grasp of the situation. They talked to their parents, family, and friends, caught up on the news. When Y/N had enough, she put her tablet down, and looked at Henry. His brow was furrowed in concentration, with a look she wasn’t sure she’d ever quite seen before. It looked like anxiety, but…it seemed a bit more than that.

“Hey, babe, let’s take a break from this. Let’s talk for a minute.” She placed her hand on his laptop, and eventually he moved his hands so she could shut it. He sat there, quiet, gears still turning. She continued, “All of our friends and family are okay, right? Scared, but okay?” He nodded, but brought his thumb to his mouth and started chewing at his nail. She hadn’t seen him do that before. “Okay, well, that’s a good start. So once we get home, we will self-quarantine. It’s probably not necessary, but just to be safe. And we’ll get through this.”

“You’re going to stay in my house.”

“Well I don’t know if that’s…”

“It wasn’t a question, Y/N. You know I wouldn’t dream of laying down the law with you, but I can’t stand the idea of you being alone in this. And I don’t want to be alone either. If we were exposed already, we both have it anyway.”

“But Henry, this could be for a while.”

“Move in with me.”

“What? Henry, we haven’t…”

“I’ve wanted to move in together for months now. And now, you don’t have to worry about your commute to work. And I’ll feel so much better having you with me.”

“I don’t know, Henry. This feels a bit more extreme than if we just moved in together. It’s just your space, not _our_ space. And…ugh, this sounds awful, but I can’t think of a better way to say it: we won’t be able to escape each other. If we were working, at least we’d have that time apart. But this…what if it’s too much?”

“Then maybe we can look at it as a trial. If we do this, and we don’t drive each other crazy, we can make it permanent.”

“And what if we do drive each other crazy, what then?”

“Then when this is over, you go back to your place, and we try again later in less ‘extreme’ circumstances.”

She considered this for a moment. “I don’t know how I feel about you taking over as the reasonable one in this relationship. We can’t both be reasonable…”

He laughed, “Is that a yes?”

“That’s a yes. But when we get home, we’re going to have to figure out how we can each carve out space of our own, and be smart about this. And I’m moving some of my stuff over.”

“Of course! I can clear out my office, that can be all yours!”

“Well then what space is yours?”

“Look, it was exhausting being this reasonable, it’s your turn again, I’m done. I’m going back to being the excitable one. We’re moving in together!”

The first few days of the lockdown were, frankly, amazing. Since they had just been on vacation, they basically tried to carry that vibe home, and continued their schedule of relaxing and sex. It was takeaway instead of room service, and Henry didn’t have the same access to gym equipment he usually had, but he did his best to make do. She even taught him how to bake bread. But as they settled in, and started tuning back into their lives, reality eventually set in. Y/N had to negotiate her job offer again, and was nervous she’d have to start her search over completely, but now with less time on the visa clock, and during a pandemic.

But her bigger concern was Henry. Being unable to leave the house was hitting him particularly hard. They had postponed filming, and not knowing the date they would be able to start again made it difficult to plan anything. He couldn’t go to the country to be with the horses. He couldn’t go to the gym. And he was…scared. He was full of anxiety. He went between bingeing the news to cutting himself off completely, and playing video games for hours, late into the night. At first she was too absorbed in her own troubles to notice just how badly it was hitting him, she was focused on trying to get through things and survive, and not worry him too much. She didn’t see how distant he’d become.

At one point, she woke up and found him asleep at the computer, video game music still blaring through his headset. Her heart broke a little, and she felt enormously guilty. How had it gotten to this point? He was normally the first one up, getting out of bed early to run, and coming back to wake her up while he slammed the kitchen cabinets around noisily, trying to make breakfast “without waking her”. So she quietly went to the kitchen, cut up some fruit and made some coffee. She put it down on his desk, waited for him to smell it, hoping it would wake him. He roused a little, but didn’t wake. She took his headset off, and leaned over him to exit out of his game. Still, nothing. Well, fuck. If the cute ways weren’t going to work…

“Henry!” she shook his shoulders. This finally did the trick, and his eyes opened, blinking against the light streaming in through the window. She backed up and leaned on the desk, “Babe, we need to talk.”

“Hmm? Oh, you brought coffee. What time is it?”

“Nearly lunch. What’s going on here, Henry?”

“I must have just lost track of time, babe.”

“I think we both know this has gotten to be more than that…” she cupped his cheek, hoping that small comfort would help him talk about it.

He brushed her hand aside, “I just stayed up too late, I don’t know what the big deal is.”

“If it was just staying up too late once or twice, that wouldn’t be a problem. But you’re doing it every night. You hardly exercise any more. I’m just worried about you. Have you been doing the remote sessions with your therapist?”

He crossed his arms on his broad chest, avoiding her eyes. “Everything is fine, Y/N.”

“No it’s not! None of this is fine, Henry! We’re in a pandemic, people are dying, and no one’s supposed to leave the house. This is peak ‘not fine,’ and it’s okay for you to not be fine with it.”

“I’m just taking the opportunity to be lazy, isn’t that what you always wanted for me?”

“And if I really believed you were just enjoying the laziness, I would be all for it, and I would enjoy feeding you all the foods you normally don’t let yourself have, and just lazing about reading and watching TV with you. But you don’t seem to be enjoying the laziness. You’re not wired for it.”

“I’m just trying to get used to the new normal.”

“So the new normal is you stressing about the news all day and playing video games all night?”

“Why not?”

“Are you happy?” she asked, and he didn’t respond. “When was the last time you ran? Or even took Kal for a walk? What about take a shower?” She let those sink in for a second before adding “When was the last time we had sex?” She could tell he was thinking about it, and that he didn’t like the answer. “I just want to support you, Henry. If not exercising makes you happier, then go ahead and don’t, you’ll still be hot no matter what shape you’re in. And I don’t mind walking Kal by myself. And if we’re just settling into a different sex cadence now that we live together, I’d like to talk about it so I don’t feel insecure, but that’s okay too. It just doesn’t feel like any of this is making you happy.”

She waited a long time for him to say anything. When it was clear he was still thinking, she tried another tact. “Henry, I’m having a hard time, too. I can’t sleep, I’ve never had insomnia like this before. I keep forgetting to eat. I’m worried about you, I’m worried about my family and friends back home, I’m worried about all the people who are going to get sick or are going to be bankrupt by this. I’m worried that I’m going to lose the new job before it starts and get deported in the middle of a pandemic.” He seemed to be responding, he was looking at her with concern. “And, on top of that, my super-hot boyfriend doesn’t seem to want to bang my brains out any more, and I’m not sure if it’s the ‘new normal’ or quarantine blues or if he’s just not very attracted to me now that I’m here all the time.”

That worked, he grabbed her and pulled her into his lap, and held her to his chest. “I’m sorry, Y/N. You’re right. I’ve been taking this harder than I realized. I certainly do still want to bang your brains out, it’s just been so hard to get myself to do anything.”

“I know, babe. But we can do this. We’re in this together,” she assured him, and he squeezed her. “Also, I love you but you _stink_. It may have been manly at 24 hours, but we’re long past that.”

He squeezed her tighter to him, “You love my musk. Okay, well, I might as well take this opportunity to double down on grossness. I’m going to hit the treadmill for a bit, then the shower. I’ll set up a time with my therapist, and then we’ll come up with a plan to get through this.”

“Excellent! I love a good plan! And I love _you_!” she said, and he pulled her in for a kiss. She shrieked and giggled, “Uck, you’re so gross! I think you slept with your mouth open! Ew ew ew ew ew, lemme go!”

When he finished his workout, she’d made a proper lunch for them, and he bolted it down before heading off to the shower. He was already feeling a little better, and getting his blood moving was helping his mood, the food was helping him think. By the time he was toweling off, he was already thinking of the plan. He expected to pull on some clothes and find her out somewhere in the house, but he found that she was, in fact, right there in the bedroom. She was lying in bed on her stomach, apparently naked, with the sheets draped artistically over her ass. And she had her laptop and…markers?

“What’s this then?” Henry asked, intrigued.

“Well, normally when I plan things, I have a big whiteboard and write everything out, kind of brainstorm. But I don’t have a whiteboard here. So, lacking that, I thought we could…improvise,” she grinned.

“Oh reeeeeally? And how did you intend for this improvisation to go?”

“Well, I figured for this plan to work, having a strong sense memory associated with it might help things stick. So, I’ll be your whiteboard! You can write your ideas on me, and then every time you remind yourself to shower, you can think about the moment you wrote it down, and maybe be a little extra inspired. And you can take some pictures so you don’t forget.”

“Somehow I don’t think I’ll forget, but I won’t object to photographic reminders of this nature…” he said, dropping his towel and sliding into bed, kissing along her shoulders.

He held a pen over her shoulder to him, “Okay, any ideas to start with?”

They spent a while coming up with some ideas of their own, and stealing some from the internet. He quickly filled her back, intentionally writing in large letters, to move on to other parts of his canvas. After he’d covered her arms, legs, and bum, he got pictures, some he took more time with than others. Then she flipped over, and he suddenly took an interest in calligraphy. She had to bury her face in her hands for some of it, out of pure ticklishness. But he finished the list, and captured it for prosperity. She had also been typing out notes, for accountability.

Once everything was documented, he started getting distracted, doodling on her calf. She stole the marker from him, pinning him to the bed for her own doodle-based revenge. Mostly she wrote “property of Y/N” across his ass. Then she grabbed some lotion to give him a well-earned massage. She just felt such a release just to touch him like this again, run her hands over his muscles, hear the little contented grunts the movements of her fingers elicited.

Eventually, he moved his hand to her leg, running it up along the inside of her thigh.

“Whatcha doin’ there, mister?” she asked.

“Well, I was trying to tell my love that it’s time for her to receive her rewards…”

“Ohhh, is that what you were going for?” she lay on his back, pressing into him, “Well, I’ll just kick back then.”

He rolled her off him, and moved to cover her body with his, “By all means, please do! I think you’ve earned it.” He had some regrets about the amount of ink he’d laid on her skin, just because he’d realized he didn’t know how easily it would rub off onto his mouth, much less how it would taste. So he delicately kissed his way down her body. He’d had the foresight to leave one part of her unmarked, anyway. He took his time, he knew how easy it was to get her to climax all over him quickly. Not to mention and how damned tempting it was. But she had been so patient with him, he could be patient too, he didn’t need to rush. But, try though he might, the time flew by and she was begging him, strangled cries trying to make any argument she could think of to get him to let her come. When she became so desperate he saw her hands invade, trying to speed things along herself, he batted her hands away, but attacked her clit. She cried out in relief at his contact, but he didn’t slow for a second, and she was coming all over his hand and mouth, a scream cut off in her throat as her back arched so high he thought she might snap in two.

He crawled up to her ear, “What’s next on the to-do list, love?”

“Mmm…I want you inside me, Henry,” she sighed, and gasped as he entered her as she said his name. God, the feeling of him stretching her would never get old. It would be her favorite feeling in the world…if it wasn’t for everything else that came after. Normally she wasn’t much of a talker during sex, but tonight she wanted to encourage him. “Fuck, Henry, you feel so good. The way you fill me…” she had folded her arms and legs around him, pulling him as close as they could be without their skin fusing. “The way you move inside me…oh god, never stop!”

He smiled into her neck, enjoying her words. Even when losing her mind, she could still keep her wits about her enough to encourage him…well, it worked. They clutched at each other, equally desperate, moaning names, gasping words of love, bodies in perfect sync, crashing together like waves until the final rush of climax brought them crushing against each other.

They stayed like that: panting and pressing kisses into each other, whispering, holding, caressing, loving.

They’d get through this. They had all they needed.


End file.
